


Mastery

by morgan_cian



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Slavery, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Flogging, Gags, M/M, Master/Slave, Multi, Spanking, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan_cian/pseuds/morgan_cian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick has been abused.  Greg is in over his head.  And Grissom....is Grissom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mastery

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted at my livejournal in 2008 and is incomplete. I'm moving it over here and hopefully, through editing and re-reading I will find my muse to complete it. I love Nick and Greg as characters, it was my second fandom ever to post fanfic about. So this is still near and dear to my heart. 
> 
> I say that so that readers are aware that this story is both rough and incomplete. But what there is, I hope you enjoy. :)

 

 

  
 

 

 

His gut rolled. This was his last chance. Well, not his last, but submitting to the brothel would cause him to take his own life. They had to take him. He was going to starve without this.

He was older than most and his personality did not project willing submission. He could do it though. He sucked in a breath and stumbled up the wooden steps.

Jobs were scarce and every day people held on to what they had until the jobs were pulled out from under the unsuspecting. It could be age, incompetence, a potential worker in the wings, anything, no warning and no recourse. Once a job was lost, employers refused to rehire. It left people homeless and starving in the streets. There was no safety net, either work or die.

He was so hungry, he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. When he pushed open the rickety door the smell of food and coffee almost sent him to his knees. He keened quietly.

“Easy fella,” A portly gray haired man put an arm around his back and held him up. “Son, what are you doing here?”

He licked his dry, cracked lips, “Please.”

The man put his hand under his chin and turned his head back and forth. He knew he was dirty, his clothes were rags, his feet bare, and he smelled. He was desperate.

“Do you know where you are?” The man said firmly. All he could do was nod. He wanted to slide to his knees and beg. “You are little old son, we don’t get too much interest outside of the young ones.”

“Please.”

He was walked over to the counter. The man considered him once again before shoving a simple sheet of paper in front of him. He had a copy of the same sheet on paper that was about to disintegrate in his back pocket. He knew what it was. With a shaky hand, he signed his life away.

Nicholas Stokes sold himself into a life of slavery.

*~*

Gregory Sanders, heir to the Sanders fortune in pharmaceuticals, was lonely. He was a disgrace to his family and their company, but it was his birthright. Sanders Pharmaceuticals held the patents for six major life saving drugs and unlocked the sequence to cure most major diseases. Companies were like kingdoms of old and he could not be forced out into the labor lines on the streets.

He disgraced his father when he refused to fire those employed in his lab. His department had three times the employees than the other labs. He endured ridicule at board meetings and at the dinner table daily. He distanced himself from those he worked with because he could not change their lot in life. His last lover had dropped him after his father had pulled the man aside and whispered into his ear.

The thought of buying a companion curdled his stomach. He had seen the disgusting displays of young men and women in the pens. They were barely older than children. The slaves stood stoically as they were pawed and slobbered on and purchased and discarded like cattle. His father had haughtily declared that they were no longer human but property.

As much as it shamed him, he was lonely and the call of a companion that could not leave him whispered seductively in his ear. Surely they were not all children. Surely he could rescue a companion who he could get to know and maybe, eventually share his bed.

It was the loneliness that pushed him to the pen that proclaimed new stock from outside of the great state of Nevada. He felt his cheeks flare at the naked flesh put on display. He was sickened at the men groping boys whose bodies were not yet developed. He almost turned away when a small pen towards the back caught his attention. There was only one naked slave staked to the ground by a chain attached to a collar made of rope.

It was a man, not a boy. Greg walked forward slowly taking in the skeletal frame, matted hair and unwashed body. He could also see the signs of physical abuse in the fresh welts across the broad back and down towards the buttocks.

“Esteemed gentleman,” The slaver said in an oily, solicitous tone that had Greg frowning, “This way, I’m sure I have something that will catch your eye.”

He stood his ground and stared at the slaver. “I want to see that one.”

The slaver frowned and followed his gaze, “Oh no, it has no skills and is undisciplined. It is slated to be turned over to a brothel." The slaver tried to crowd Greg into moving back to the pen of young boys. "If you will look this way, much better quality to train to your specific needs.”

Greg walked to the edge of the pen. He didn't do it often, but he shored up his bored corporate air. Money was the law of the land. “He hasn’t been sold to a brothel or you would not have him on display. I want to see him.” Greg could feel the slaver hesitate. Without turning from the kneeling body, he commanded lowly, "Now."

The slaver sighed and unlocked the small door leading inside the tiny area filled with dirty straw. Greg ignored him and squatted down. The man's flesh rippled in recognition of having someone near. His broad hands knuckled together, hunching to make himself even smaller despite the emaciated body.

“Please,” Greg said quietly, not wanting the slaver to be involved, “Look at me.”

The man lifted his head. Greg wanted to reach out and touch the dirty square jaw, thick with a greasy beard. The glazed, deadened brown eyes broke his heart. Greg's heart clutched with overwhelming compassion and anger. This was a man, same as him, and yet the dictates of the law and the luck of the draw of birth had stripped him naked for all to see.

“I won’t hurt you,” Greg said gently, “What is your name?”

“Whatever you would wish it to be, sir,” the man replied in a monotone. Despite the dry cracked sound of unused vocal chords, Greg could hear the distinctive southern twang.

“I wish to know your name.” Unsure of where it came from, Greg's voice darkened and pitched even lower.

The brown eyes darted over his shoulder before focusing once again, “Nick, sir.” And again the tortured body shivered.

“Very good,” Greg replied, reaching out. He stopped as Nick tried to skitter back on battered knees and bowed his head until his chin was tucked against his chest. “I won’t hurt you.” He said firmly and cupped the sharp cheekbone. Despite being unwashed, the beard was soft as was the skin just below the wary brown eye.

“Please, sir,” Nick whispered almost inaudibly. He licked cracked lips.

“Yes,” Greg said leaning forward. He was kneeling in the filth knee to knee with the wretched skeleton of a man. Gentle but firm, Greg lifted the masculine face to his own and saw the misery and defeat. Greg's thumbs gently stroked the soft skin, his guts quivering.

“Please don’t give me hope," came the quiet, desperate plea that had Greg cocking his head in surprise at the bald emotion, only to jerk back at the whistle of a whip.

“Silence!” The slaver roared and brought the whip down. "Stupid swine!" The painful cry had Greg moving to his feet and grabbing the whip before the slaver could use it on Nick again. Nick's body was in protective ball, chin to his knees, with the shackled hands covering his head.

“You will stop now.” Greg stated deadly calm. He might not have ever considered a slave but he was not unaware his position afforded him in such places as a slave pen. “I offer for him." The slaver turned an indignant red. With money came privilege and Greg would not be denied, "He is mine.”

“But sir,” The slaver sounded like a toddler who had his favorite toy taken away.

“He is mine,” Greg said steadily, he understood his position within the law as a corporate heir, “Or I will report your pen and your license will be revoked.” The slaver slumped in defeat, eyes hateful on Nick, his whip still in Greg's hand. “Bring me the necessary paperwork. I’m taking him home.” Greg growled and dropped the leather negligently.

Nick was looking up at him with abject hope and terror. Greg reached out and cupped that face that pulled at his heart, it was all that he could do to stay on his feet when he wanted to fall to his knees and gather Nick into the protection of his embrace. "That’s right, you are mine.”

The man’s tongue slipped out to wet his cracked bottom lip. Greg wondered fleetingly what it would be like to kiss a mouth like that as Nick's hoarse voice croaked,“I’m yours?”

Giving in, Greg knelt once more in the filthy straw before Nick. Slowly placing his hand on the back of Nick's neck, feeling the coarse rope, he leaned forward gently coaxing Nick until their foreheads were pressed together. Despite the stench of desperation and unwashed skin, Greg whispered, “You are mine.”

*~*

It passed in a blur. Greg would later remember losing his cool and swearing until the slaver brought him a clean blanket and a plain leather collar. Nick's neck was chaffed and reddened from the dirty rope. Nick had flinched at the feel of stiff leather around his throat. He had given Greg a furtive glance before ducking his head once more. Greg would not bring his new companion into his home naked and shivering. He remembered banging his shin as he gently maneuvered the trembling man into the backseat of his warm, clean waiting vehicle. The bruise was evident of his own clumsiness with Nick under his protection. His long time manservant, Rand, had not said a word besides a raised eyebrow. Greg thought again of how unfamiliar his own voice had sounded when he had croaked, “Home.”

Now, in the sanctity of his own home, he was at a loss. The man knelt before him shaking so hard that the flimsy blanket slithered to the floor. Greg knew just by the bone structure the man, Nick, should be a lot larger both in body mass and muscle. He could see the bones under the almost transparent layer of battered skin. He reached out only to let his hand drop helplessly at his side, biting his bottom lip hard to keep from huffing out a sigh of futility. Greg could see that any action would be perceived as a prelude to pain and hurt and that was the last thing he wanted Nick to feel. He wanted his new companion to feel safe and healthy. Yet, an empire was not built in a day.

Rand cleared his throat causing Greg to jolt and Nick to go flat on his face at Greg's feet, naked body shivering on cold marble floors. “Pardon, sir, but I took the liberty to call Dr. Grissom. Also while you were at the pen,” Greg blanched when he felt Nick place his forehead against the leather of his shoe. “I purchased these thinking that you might need them as well.” Greg took the paper bag gratefully.

Rand’s eyes seemed to be wise and understanding, careful not to look down at Nick but meet Greg's worried gaze head on, “Sir, he would feel better if he were clean. I will have a table set up in your quarters with some food. Dr. Grissom will be along soon.”

Soon, that put Greg into motion. He had always admired Dr. Grissom and he was unsure how his unspoken mentor would feel about Greg owning another human being.He found himself lifting his slave, he thought with a wince, to his feet and leading him out of the foyer. Nick, he reminded himself viciously, not merely a slave, but Nick, he had a name! Nick had not said a word since his purchase, moving complacently as Greg directed him. Even now, Nick moved compliantly without a word, his body speaking for him with the steady shaking and his steps a slow shuffle. It made Greg ache in sympathy just to look over the abused flesh. He was almost sure why Nick limped as he did but his mind shied away from such a blatant violent act against one who was defenseless under the law.

He led Nick through his bedroom and inside his spacious bathroom. Greg waited and expected Nick to move forward to take his bath. In Greg’s mind, Nick was a slave on paper yet still a vital man who had succumbed to the circumstances despite the overwhelming evidence screaming otherwise. Nick stayed still with his head lowered. Greg could feel his brow lifting in surprise at his own ignorant stupidity. Shit, Greg bemoaned silently, he’s waiting on me. I don’t know what to do with a slave; he thought and realized that would be his mantra until things sorted themselves out.

With slow deliberate movements, he grasped Nick's trembling ice cold hands in his own and squeezed them gently. He stepped into his shower fully clothed and adjusted the multiple heads so that the water would be soothing and set the temperature so that it would not be too hot. The abrasions on Nick’s body would sting no matter what but Greg did not want to add to the pain. Ignoring his own sopping clothes and ruined shoes, Greg placed his hands on Nick's boney shoulders and eased the docile man under the spray. Greg stepped out, dripping water all over the floor, found the antiseptic cream and grabbed some thick towels from the towel warmer.

When he turned back, the man had not moved. The water washed away the grime but was otherwise ineffectual. Sighing, Greg stripped off the clothes that clung his own lean frame. Leaving his boxers on, Greg stepped back into the shower. He grabbed the soap as he would to bathe his own body and moved behind the Nick surveying the old scars and newer damaged skin that the water had exposed from under the grime. When their skin brushed and Nick reacted violently. Nick crashed to his knees and whimpered, “No, please no.”

Greg stood in shock as the water pelted over them. The nasty realization set in that Nick had not only been beaten and starved to death but he had sexually abused as well. His mind fully pictured Nick being raped instead of shying away. With no thought to a slave's comfort, the evidence was in Nick's slow limping steps. Greg's stomach barely gave him time to get to the toilet before he retched until he dry heaved..

What was he thinking? He pressed his forehead against the cool porcelain. Of course he knew what happened to slaves intellectually but with his life and position, he had been so far removed. How was he going to provide for the poor, helpless man that keened quietly from the shower?

This was a mistake.

*~*

Nick had eased into his slavery without a hitch in the beginning. The slave receiving office had provided him with meals, a clean cot, and warm water for bathing. If this was slavery, he castigated himself for not selling himself sooner.

The contract was simple. A person gave up their rights to their humanity. In becoming property, they were guaranteed shelter, food, water, and their health. A sick slave was unusable.

After signing his name, he was led to a small shower cubicle where he was told to strip and take a bath. Once clean, he found a simple robe that he slipped on moaning at the fact that it was both soft and clean. He was then led to the infirmary where he was given a physical and his simple leather collar had been fitted. The tag that went under his skin beneath his right ear had been painless.

The same portly gentleman gave him a plate of warm rice and vegetables along with a cup of water. His face burned as he scooped the food into his mouth as quick as he could. The man’s face remained impassive and once he had eaten he was led to small closet of a room that held a cot. It was the best night of sleep he had had in a long time.

Days passed into weeks while he learned to serve the man at the slave receiving office, the correct postures, and the etiquette of being a slave. Even though he knew it should shame him, he found himself wanting the praise the man gave him and the soft touches to his head or face. The man warned him not to get attached that his office was merely a hub in the slave trade, but Nick ignored him. This life was so much nicer than trying to survive in the streets. The man was not cruel in his corrections and Nick wanted to please him.

When he was purchased by a traveling slaver he found out just how wrong and naïve he was.

Even now as Nick huddled into himself on the shower floor, the pelting water still warm, not the ice cold harshness that he remember, he refused to think of it. Only his body reacted to the memory when his new master’s flesh had touched his own. Who knew what punishment he would receive for disobedience of not standing still? He was owned again and he could not simply take the man's skin against his body as he was brutally trained under the traveling slaver. That one could be creative in his punishments at disobedience. And his favorite was...Nick keened. As long as it wasn’t that, please if there was a god in heaven, Nick prayed. Please not that.

*~*

Greg settled on handing Nick what he needed and giving simple commands in a quiet tone. It was like the tension bled out and the shaking stopped. The dark head stayed lowered and after each command to wash his body, his hair, Nick would whisper, “Yes, master, thank you, master.” It made Greg clench his teeth. It was such a programmed response that he did not have the energy to try to dissuade the man from saying it. Greg considered the razor and looked at Nick standing under the spray, his body clean. Thinking again of the damnable programming, Greg simply handed of the razor and foam and commanded Nick to shave carefully. "Yes master, thank you master."

The ever resourceful Rand had provided Nick with generic slave attire that always made Greg think of medical scrubs. He turned as the man covered his body in the red cotton. Red, the color of the Sanders family, Greg thought.

The sheer exhaustion in the dark depths had him quietly directing the battered man to his bed. Again sheer terror caused the thin frame to begin to quake. “No, my own,” He was surprised at his choice of words, “Please, just rest. Dr. Grissom will be here soon and you will need to eat. Now, get into bed.”

“Yes, master, thank you master,” Nick slid to his knees and placed his forehead on the floor at Greg’s feet. Greg winced at the pull of the thin skin and abraded flesh, soft clean hair across the plain collar. The movements were just as graceful as Nick once again stood and slipped beneath the covers. Taking a chance, he reached out and cupped the man’s face, now smooth and soft, as he had in the pen, “You are mine.” Nick’s eyes flickered momentarily. Where ever the man had hid in his mind during his shower and dressing, Greg realized that he was just now recognizing him once more.

“Yours, master.” Nick whispered his voice hoarse. Nick's wary brown eyes did not close. Greg sighed. He was way over his head.

“Sleep, my own.”

“Yes master, thank you master.” The inflection had changed slightly and Greg thought he heard a whisper of gratitude as the brown eyes fluttered close. He sat beside the bed watching the man sleep. Greg jolted as Rand tsked quietly. He looked up and saw his oldest friend clearing away the uneaten food.

“I’m going to need an owner’s manual.” He said quietly, not knowing if it was for his or his manservant’s benefit. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Rand put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You thought as you always have, sir, with your heart. You should make yourself presentable, Dr. Grissom is always punctual.”

He sighed as he cleaned up. He wanted scrub his skin raw at the filthiness that seemed to cling to him. Why did he think he could own another human being?

Because he had seen and wanted, he answered himself miserably. What kind of justification was that? He walked down the stairs, dressed in worn blue jeans, old t-shirt, and bare feet just as Dr. Grissom walked through the foyer. Impeccably dressed in a dark suit, stark white shirt, and blue tie. The bright blue eyes seemed even brighter as they pinned Greg like a bug under a microscope.

“Greg, my boy, what have you gotten yourself into?”

*~*

When the door closed quietly, Nick’s eyes snapped open. He strained to hear if there was anyone else in the room. When his heightened senses gave him the okay, his body relaxed.

He hated losing control of himself and losing large blocks of time. His memories were easily fragmented. That tended to happen to him when he got scared. He must have thought he was going to be abused again. His mind would retreat to that dark, safe place that would remind him that he was Nick despite the sparks of pain like lightening in the endless darkness behind his eyelids.

His training after his contract had been purchased by the traveling slaver solidified his mental retreat. He took a deep breath and tried to piece together why he was clean, dressed, and in a comfortable bed. It was almost like being transported back to life at the slave hub in Texas.

Images of kneeling tied down in a small pen flickered as well as the taunts and jeers. He flinched at the memory of one brothel owner dripping spittle on him while his cock and balls were fondled as his worthlessness was discussed above his head. He was only good enough to be a hole, not pretty or young enough to go on the auction block. He was too ugly and ill-kempt, the traveling slaver had used him too hard. Passed him around to his customers one too many times. The Nevada slaver was unhappy with Nick being added to his purchase of young, fresh flesh from the Texas slaver. Nick's greatest fear was going to come true. It was what he was trying to avoid when he signed his name in the very beginning. He would be fucked into his death in the horror that was a brothel where the laws concerning slaves did not exist.

Nick remembered being surprised when a well dressed young man had knelt down and looked at him. He was shocked again when the man didn’t grope him or mock him. Dark brown eyes, like his own eyes, were his first thought, had been kind and gentle. And he wanted to know Nick's name. When he gave an automatic trained response, the man had been insistent. His name, not it, and he had been momentarily stunned before his memory kicked in and reminded him that he did have a name. Not whore, slut, cock sucker, pussy, but the name that had been given to him by his father, Nick.

The soft touch to his face had made him stupid and he begged. He did not want kindness; he did not want to be tempted that there was something better than his lot in life. The Texas slave trader had made sure he knew his place. He had sold his life away. He was stupid to speak out of turn and the resultant whip to his back should not have been a surprise. He had dealt with so much worse and bore it in silence. The shocking sting combined with gentle, concerned eyes had him crying out stupidly. He had expected the gentleman to walk away. Instead, the long fingers touched him again and said, “You are mine.”

So why had he gone into such a panic, he thought fuzzily pulling the warm blankets under his chin. And the memory of pelting water had him shivering. The brush of wet flesh on his own had him flailing. Even in the soft bed in the silence of an empty bedroom, Nick had to push down the terror that was beginning to creep up once again.

When he was sold from the slave hub, the slaver’s first action was to inspect him. And rape him under the stinging spray of an ice cold shower.

*~*

Greg squirmed. Grissom was seated across from him, his gaze unwavering. Gilbert Grissom was an icon in the science community. Being the only living member of his line, the governing bodies could not force his mandatory retirement. So Grissom was an oddity and Greg had gravitated towards him. He sought his approval and respect, a father figure that he did not have in his own.

“Even before Rand called, I heard that you made quite the scene and caused quite stir at the slave auction today. Frankly, I was surprised." Though his words were nonchalant, Grissom's eyes glittered like a predator sizing up its prey. "I want to talk to you before I see your newly acquired,” Grissom began, “Where is it at the moment?”

“He,” Greg corrected quietly but firmly, “is resting.”

The bearded features smirked, like a professor proud of a student's answer, “Very good.” The pregnant pause had Greg looking up, his lips firming to argue.

Greg lowered his head once again in shame, he felt like he was disappointing his mentor despite the smirk and the queer gleam in Grissom's gaze, “A traveling slaver in the market, yes, Dr. Grissom, I purchased another person.”

“What do you know about the current slave practices?”

Greg looked up, surprised at the turn in conversation, “You aren’t going to ask me why?”

Grissom’s expression softened, “That no longer matters. What matters now is that you fully understand your responsibilities as well as the repercussions.”

That surprised him, “Repercussions?”

“Come now,” Grissom reproached, “You don’t think your father will see this as another sign of weakness.”

Doubt and fear bubbled, “He can’t hurt Nick, can he? He’s mine, he belongs to me.”

“No, he can’t physically harm what belongs to you without full persecution of the law. However, you know that he will use him to belittle you, how much more can you take?”

Greg shrugged, “Most think that it is because of my employee policies, he is just disappointed in me. I do not act the way that he wants and the fact that his retirement will leave the entire company under my control.” He sighed and curled his arms around his legs, “I don’t know how to own another man, Griss, but you didn’t see him in the pen. I couldn’t leave Nick there.”

“Again I ask you, what do you know about current slave practices.”

“Nothing really, outside of what corporate owners are allowed,” He admitted with a blush, “I just know what I’ve seen and outside of the pens, it seems nice.”

Grissom shook his head, “Rand led me to believe that your slave is older. What you have observed in your social circles is relationships that have been built since the slaves were children. They know no better and in your circle, slaves are seen as pampered pets and adoring companions. Your slave has led a much different life than that. Desperation sends good men and women into a heartbreaking situations. You are going to have to tread carefully.”

Greg nodded. “He’s been abused, Griss. Will you look him over and tell me what I need to do to care for him physically.”

The blue eyes studied him once again before the man nodded.

Greg led him up the stairs and bid him to wait as he roused his sleeping slave. He closed the door quietly and took in the curled form. His heart beat painfully. He wanted to keep the man safe, to gain a companion. He studied the square jaw and strong features and shamefully admitted to himself that he wanted Nick to eventually share his bed.

Not wanting to frighten Nick any more than he had to, he did not touch him. Instead he knelt by the bed and cleared his throat, “Nick,” Oh how he ached to touch, to card his fingers through soft dark hair and watch sleepy eyes open slowly, “Wake up, my own.”

Just as he thought though, the brown eyes snapped open, wide and terrified. Greg stumbled back as the man was crashing to the floor with his head pressed to floor, “My master, please, forgive me, master.” The thin body trembled beneath the red fabric.

Greg pitched caution to the wind and lifted Nick into his embrace. He rocked back and forth whispering, “I’ve got you, my own. You are mine and you are safe.” He kept his touches gentle and soothing until Nick calmed. Easing the man back, he made sure he had Nick’s attention, “I swear to you, my own, no one will harm you ever again. Tell me you understand that, please.”

Brown eyes considered cautiously as the pink tongue darted out. Nick wet his bottom lip and whispered, “Yes master, thank you master, I understand.”

“I know that you are frightened, but I need to have you checked over.” Greg tightened his grip when Nick gave a quiet, pitiful moan. “Not by some generic slave doctor, but by a trusted friend. I will be right here, my own. I’m not going to leave you.”

Watching Grissom evaluate Nick's health was a lesson in humility for Greg. He sat where Nick could look up furtively and see Greg before the dark head lowered once again. Greg was so focused on the battered man that Grissom’s gentle commands and Nick’s low responses were background noise.

Nick lifted the red shirt and held still as Grissom checked his back and made notes on a notepad. Greg could see the shadow of lost muscle definition. Nick was just a bit shorter than him, but he could easily envision muscled pectorals and a rippled abdomen.

The man shuddered visibly when Grissom touched his hip. Nick’s head dipped lower as he put his thumbs beneath the waistband. Greg sat up and unaware that he was about to snarl but Grissom pinned him with a steady glare. He had Nick turn and lean into the bed as he slipped on a surgical glove and applied lubricant.

Greg was at war. He was furious, he was sickened, and he was aroused by the welted, rounded buttocks and shadowed crease. Nick’s body went bow tight as Grissom touched him intimately. The older man spoke quietly, firmly and placed his free hand on Nick’s lower back, massaging the tense frame until Nick whimpered and relaxed. Greg watched with sickening fascination as Grissom’s finger penetrated the Nick. It was over before he could suck in another breath and Nick was pulling his pants back into place. Grissom touched his shoulder and spoke once again.

Greg watched as Nick lowered himself to his knees at his feet and placed his forehead near Greg’s big toe. “Thank you master,” came the quiet response that held a slight tremor.

He frowned at Grissom and touched the dark head, “You did well, my own, look at me.” The dark glazed eyes lifted and he cupped the handsome face, “You are mine.”

His heart jumped to his throat when Nick leaned into his hand and replied, “Yours, master.” He met Grissom’s gaze and noticed that the bearded man wore a satisfied smirk.

*~*

Nick had fucked up yet again. The gentle man’s voice roused him and he realized that he fell asleep and let his guard down. He crashed out of the bed to put himself in the proper posture for his new master.

His new master was so strange. Touching him, holding him, and to think tried to soothe him even as he frightened him with the thought of being inspected. He had moaned wanting to cry at the abuse that was to come. Slave doctor's were rough and did their jobs perfunctorily. They got away with it because their fees were exorbitant. Even the promise of a friend rather than a regular slave doctor did not comfort Nick, not with the knowledge of how things were.

He did not want to trust the comfort, the gentle touches, the kindness. His new master could and probably would tire of him and sell him after the novelty wore off. The slave trader liked to give litanies of what would happen to him while he ripped him open during the fucking and left him bleeding for days.

Before he could scuttle into his mental hiding place the new gentleman entered the room. Nick knew he should kneel to his own master but the light in the new man’s blue eyes made him want to kneel even more under wash of power of his mere presence. Nick had never felt that before. Even at the slave hub and the gentle touches, he had never wanted to truly submit. He just wanted kindness after almost starving.

The gentle but firm ‘boy’ from the bearded lips had him shuddering and following. He slipped his shirt off and as much as he wanted to bolt, his pants as well. He did balk when the gloved finger slipped between the cheeks of his ass. It hurt and he could not help it.

The firm tone gentled and the man called him a good boy and put a warm hand on his skin. Not a punch, a slap, or a vicious pinch to the kidneys but a soothing caress saying over and over “Good boy,” and he relaxed.

It did not hurt unlike past examinations. Not really, Nick thought, just a stinging pain and then it was over. He was bending over and sliding his pants back into place. The warm breath ghosted over his ear, caused him to start, but the voice was firm, commanding, “Don’t you want to be a good boy for your master, look at him, he sees his good boy.”

Nick looked up and saw the whirlwind of emotions swirling in the dark depths of his master’s eyes. The pink lips were parted and he could feel the lust and want rolling off the man in waves. He felt rather than saw the scissors that Master Grissom used to cut away hanks of hair, leaving Nick feeling somewhat even more exposed with his hair shorn closer to his scalp. He would not be able to duck behind the hair that would fall over his eyes.

He was gripped in the same feeling as he had been with the bearded man yet it was different. He wanted to submit, he wanted to be his master’s good boy, Nick did not want to be hurt, he wanted to be pleasing. His master’s slender fingers touched him and he pressed into the man’s palm. He had to whisper through dry lips, “Thank you master.”

And a strange feeling traveled through him as his master said once again, “You are mine.”

“Yours, master,” slipped easily from his mouth. He was shocked. He truly wanted to belong to his new master. If only the man would think that he was a good boy, maybe just maybe he would keep him. Save him from the horrors that awaited him in the brothels.

*~*

“Listen to me closely, Greg,” Grissom said firmly. “I will guide you through the basics and then you will make preparations to bring your boy to my estate.”

The hair on Greg’s nape rose. Grissom was such an absent minded genius that the tone, dark and firm, surprised him. It made a strange flutter in his gut and his hand instinctually went to Nick’s nape. He wanted to growl, Mine, and was unsure where the urge came from.

“Nicky,” The same firm tone had Nick raising his dark head. “You have very good posture, kneel at your master’s feet and he will feed you.”

“Griss,” Greg began.

“Quiet, Greg.” And his mouth snapped shut audibly. He frowned at the older man.

Nick’s brown eyes peered up at him cautiously. Shit, Greg thought furiously, he’s waiting for my command. How?!? He looked to Grissom in panic.

“Follow your instincts, Greg.”

“Come here, my own,” He cupped the back of Nick’s neck, feeling the press of the leather collar, and the Nick settled at his feet when Greg sat down hard. He was surprised when the weight of the man’s head settled on his thigh.

“Yes master, thank you master.” He noticed that the words seems to come easier, Nick did not seem as tense. He cupped the square jaw and trailed his thumb over the sharp cheekbone.

“My own,” He whispered and followed his instincts, “My boy, my Nicky.” And Nick’s body relaxed even more. He looked up and saw Grissom’s trademark smirk.

“Feed him from your hand, Greg.”

Grissom’s voice was almost hypnotic as he took the bread and tore a small piece. He faltered at buttering it. “Do you want...” But he stopped when Grissom cleared his throat.

“Not yet, Greg, he knows he cannot want. Just feed him.”

He placed the buttered bread against the dry lips and watched in fascination as Nick opened his mouth and plucked it from his fingers. He squirmed, now was not the time to be lusting after the poor abused man. He fed Nick bread and vegetables and then fruit and water. He realized Rand’s foresight at providing finger foods.

“He’s had enough, Greg.” Grissom broke through his thoughts. He looked down and noticed the slightly glazed look in Nick’s dark eyes. His cheeks flared. He was not equipped for this.

“Greg,” The dark tone made his stomach clench, “You’ve done well, my boy. There’s hope for you, yet.”

“Hope?”

Grissom’s gaze softened, “To be a good master for your boy. I had my doubts. You are nowhere ready yet, but your instincts are good.”

“How do you know so much, Grissom?” Greg could hear the wonderment in his voice.

A grin that could only be described as wicked curved upwards, “How do you think?”

Greg’s jaw dropped, “You are a slave owner?!” His voice raised an octave.

“A master,” Grissom replied, “not an owner. My boy and my girl have a master, a master that you have the potential of being.”

Greg looked down at the soft brown eyes of his slave, his Nicky. Mine. He trailed his fingers across the soft curve of ear to Nick’s nape once again. “My boy,” he whispered.

“Your boy,” Nick replied softly, almost dreamily, before the dark head rested on Greg's thigh.

*~*

Greg looked back at Grissom, “You mentioned the basics.” Using gentle pressure, he moved Nick, where instead of kneeling, Nick was seated between Greg's feet in the cradle of his thighs. With slight coaxing, Nick's head rested against Greg's inner thigh, making carding the soft thick hair even easier. The weight of Nick against him felt good and solid.

Grissom sat back, “I will send in prescriptions for antibiotics and a topical ointment for his whip marks. There has been some scaring in his rectum but there are no open fissures. You will need to apply an ointment there as well.”

Greg’s face burned at the thought of touching Nick there, the heat, the tightness. He pushed it away. Nick had been abused, tortured, and heaven knew what else. How could he touch him and bring back those awful memories? He wanted to gain the man’s trust and affection and maybe they could share a bed.

Nick had tensed slightly under his palm. He ran soothing fingers through the man’s hair. “I won’t hurt him, Griss.”

The older man gave him a dark look, “It won’t be hurting him, Greg. He needs to get used to your touch, your expectations. The two of you won’t be able to function outside your home unless you come to terms that to society he is no longer a man, but your property and will be expected to act as such. You won’t be able to protect him unless you understand that his every need is under your purview. He has no legal wants or wishes, Greg. You make decisions for him now.”

Greg opened his mouth but Grissom would not allow him to speak. “Think, Greg, have you ever seen those pampered pets asked if they want butter on their bread? They follow their masters and take what is given to them. You need to give him what he needs, a master that will provide for him and allow him to do what he is trained to do.” Grissom huffed in annoyance. “Give him an order to follow my commands.”

“Griss,” Greg started and the sighed. He placed a hand on Nick’s trembling shoulder. Despite relaxing against Greg, it seemed that Nick was very aware of what was going on around him and what was being said. And what had been said had his new slave nervous. Gathering up his own courage, Greg's voice came out gentle, but dark and firm, surprising himself, and said, “Look at me, Nick.” The brown eyes were wary. “You are mine but I need to you to obey Master Grissom.”

Terror flickered in Nick's dark eyes and Greg cupped the thin, rugged face, “You are my boy, mine. He won’t do anything to you, my own. I am here.” Clearing his throat, "I am a new owner and I have to learn how best to take care of you. Because you are mine and mine only, Nicky.

He could see Grissom nod in approval. “Obey Grissom, my own.”

Nick’s body seemed to sag in resignation and replied lowly, “Yes master, thank you master.” He then turned on his knees and faced Grissom.

“Answer me verbally, Nicky.” The dark tone liquid and seemed to slide around them both. “You were trained at a slave hub?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick replied quietly with his head lowered submissively. Greg wanted to pull him back and damn the consequences. Mine, he thought angrily. 

“You know how to serve your master?”

Nick stiffened and once again replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Very good, Nicky,” Grissom said and then pinned Greg under his blue gaze. “Greg, come here.”

He stood on shaky legs and made his way to Grissom’s side. He started when the man put a hand to his lower back. He felt a strange sensation to sink to his knees. Grissom’s knowing chuckle wound its way through his groin. What the fuck, he thought in amazement.

“Nicky, look at your master,” Greg shifted uncomfortably under the weight frightened brown eyes. Nick had to see the lust and desire and the last thing he wanted to was to cause the man more terror. Tremors shook the thin shoulders.

The dark voice seemed to magnetize them and draw them closer, “Look at your boy, Greg, he is frightened. He doesn’t know how to please you. He is afraid that you are going to do that which terrifies him the most. He can sense it in you.”

Greg reached out and touched Nick’s face. “He is yours to command, Greg. What are you going to do, my boy?” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the sharp cheekbone. “Follow your instincts.”

Greg felt the weight of Grissom’s presence at his back and leaned into it. The hands on his hips centered him. He licked his lips.

“I will never hurt you, my own.” His voice sounded deeper and darker to his own ears. Nick’s eyes widened in shock but as he continued to caress the man’s face, Nick’s eyelids lowered to half mast. “Come here.”

Nick rose gracefully to his feet and slid into his arms with no hesitation. Greg shuddered. He could feel the heat of Grissom against his back and the thin body of Nick in his arms. Pressing his lips against Nick’s temple, he rubbed the man’s back at the resultant tremor, “Who are you, Nicky?”

“Yours, master.” The warm breath whispered across Greg’s neck.

“Mine,” Greg replied softly, “Mine to protect always, my own. Do not fear. Who am I, Nicky?”

“My master,” Nick whispered and his head settled into the crook of Greg’s neck.

Greg kept his body still when a warm, whiskered face brushed against his nape, “Very good, Greg,” Lips touched the sensitive flesh and he wanted to keen, “very good.” He instinctually ground his ass against the flesh that pressed against him.

Grissom chuckled and Greg actually keened in the back of his throat. “There is so much more than meets the eye, Greg, my boy,” The erection gently ground into him, “I look forward to training you as well.”

Greg had to bite his tongue to keep the Master from dripping from his lips.

*~*

Nick curled into the couch as per his master’s command and watched as the two men exchange pleasantries before the bearded one pinned him under the bright blue gaze. Nick lowered his eyes quickly.

He felt his master’s presence standing over him, he froze. He wasn’t given a command and he had to fight the urge to look up into the rich dark eyes. Like silky dark chocolate, he thought and his cheeks burned. What was going on, he thought wildly. It was like he stepped into a whole new world, a world that the whiskered Master Grissom knew well.

“My own,” He pushed into the fingers that touched him. Nick had hated being touched for so long that he was surprised at how easily he fell into his first days of training.

 _Very good, Nicky, you will make a fine slave. One that will make someone proud to own you, but I guess desperation does different things for different people._ The portly man's voice came back to haunt him.

Nick had been desperate. He was good at his old life, always kind and courteous as he was raised. He foolishly thought that obeying the Golden Rule would protect him from the harsh realities. It had not, in the end. The corporation superintendent had smirked at him. _You are weak, Stokes, Conrad Ecklie had said with manic glee. You are no longer needed in investigations_. The hammer dropped with the words you are fired.

“Where did you go?” He reared back in shock as his master knelt in front of him. He fought the surge of panic that would send him to his knees, begging for forgiveness. The master’s eyes were gentle and concerned. “Talk to me, my own. I can’t read your mind and I will never punish you,” He watched a strange expression filter across the man’s features, “I will never punish you unduly.” His master's gaze was on the Master Grissom as he corrected himself. Good, Nick thought, his master knew that Nick would need to be punished, he always seemed to need it under the slave traders.

“Master,” Nick licked his lips, “What does my master command?”

“Answer me honestly, does it cause you discomfort if I am close to you?”

Nick frowned, so very strange indeed, “My comfort does not matter, master.”

He watched as his new master frowned. He felt the butterflies kick in his gut, he did not know the rules in this new environment, not slave traders' care. He started when the man took his hand in his own and placed it against his face.

His master’s skin was warm and golden. It felt good, soft but masculine. It was the gentleness in his master’s eyes that caused him to settle.

“Nicky,” His master said quietly, “I’m trying and I don’t know all of your history, yet. I can’t do this alone. My expectations and what you have had in a master before will be different. I’m going to need your help.”

He tensed. His master was talking to him, treating him as he had been treated before he had signed his name on the contract. Was it a trap? To become complacent before the blows began raining down?

It felt different now that Master Grissom was gone. Nick was surprised, he usually knew everything that was going on around him. He had not realized that his master had exchanged his farewells and the Master Grissom had melted away. It was just his master and himself. He could read uncertainty in his master. Could it be that the man was just as lost and confused as he felt? Against his will his fingers twitched, causing a jolt of sensation of touching his master. The dark eyes fluttered close, the long inky eyelashes fanning out.

If he were a free man, he would think his master attractive. If he were a free man, he desired soft feminine curves. If pig's could fly, Nick thought, and that was in his past. The hub owner never touched him sexually and the slave traders took pleasure in hurting him. His new master had been adamant about not hurting him even with honest lust in his eye.

He dared to clear his throat as his trembling finger tip trailed down his master’s cheek, “It does not bother me for you to be close, master.” Nick knew that his master could feel the brush of his breath being so close to one another.

The dark eyes fluttered open and his master smiled, soft and gentle. Nick felt warmth spread through him as if his master had called him a good boy.

He started at the sound of a throat clearing.

“Sir,” The butler’s face was impassive but Nick quickly put his hand in his lap. His master frowned and stood. “The provisions from Dr. Grissom have arrived. Also your father is requesting that you contact him at once.”

Nick watched as his master paled.

*~*

Greg felt cornered, by Grissom and his father. Nick had just voluntarily, well maybe not so voluntarily, touched him. The whisper of the fingertip gave him hope. Pushing Grissom away from his unsettled thought, Greg was also going to ignore his father for the moment. His lab was under his domain and his father could not fuck with it. Greg could easily go to the council of companies and request that his father seek early retirement if the old man continued to interfere with his life. He was of age to take over even if his father had not met the mandatory retirement age of 65. Again he shoved those thoughts away, he had to be strong and take matters into hand. The fragile layer of trust that had begun to form would probably be washed away the moment Greg touched Nick. Greg was going to have to medicate him. The tortured soul would probably see it as another violation.

He took the package from Rand. His long term servant read his expression and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Very good, Sir.”

He then looked at Nick with his head bowed and his hands in his lap. Greg sighed. “Come, my own.”

Once ensconced in his bedroom, he felt nauseous as Nick stood passively before him. He took a deep breath, “Nicky, I need you to talk to me. I have the medications that Dr. Grissom sent for you.” The head lowered a fraction, “Yes, you know what I have to do.” He palmed the warm cheek and lifted his slave’s head, “I won’t hurt you. It is going to be uncomfortable for the both of us" Greg said baldly, "but the sooner we do this, the quicker it will be over. Do you understand, my own?”

“Yes master,” Nick’s whisper was breathy.

Greg gulped, “I need you to disrobe, Nicky.”

Greg watched with a heavy heart and a sickening sexual need as the trembling hands lifted the shirt and then pushed the pants down over boney hips. He folded his clothing into a small bundle and presented it to Greg. Nick stood before him, naked and battered but for the simple leather collar.

Greg took the ointment and stepped behind the man, he laid a hand on the man’s shoulder and Nick jerked automatically but Greg was unsure if it was truly pain. Or, if Nick expected pain to follow. He quickly treated each whip mark across the thin, translucent skin. His own hands trembled as he touched the ones on Nick’s buttocks. The shaking became more pronounced.

 _Follow your instincts,_ Grissom's dark voice whispered through Greg.

He reached out and clasped Nick’s hip, “Easy, my own. My good boy, you are doing so well.” He crooned over and over while he massaged the patch of skin between Nick’s hips. And as with Grissom, the trembling slowly ceased. He thought he heard a quiet, ‘your boy’ but he couldn’t be sure.

Damning Grissom, he could no longer put off what he and Nick both dreaded. For totally different reasons, he thought miserably. Continuing to talk gently, he positioned Nick’s pliant body over the edge of his bed. His mouth went dry as the man automatically spread his feet for balance. The shadowed crease parted and he could see the hint of the man’s abused opening.

“I’m sorry, so so sorry,” Greg did not know if he was talking to Nick or himself as he gently probed the outer skin. Nick whimpered and his hole clenched, the rounded curve of his buttocks tightening reflexively. Greg, sickened but undeterred, continued to talk quietly extending his gentle touch to the slopes of the man’s behind.

And then the opening began to give way as Nick slowly relaxed once more. Greg gained access to the tight heat and had to bite his tongue to keep from whimpering himself. His cock was pressing uncomfortably, demanding that he mount the man.

 _He’s yours_ , his inner voice whispered slyly, _he can’t say no and he can’t leave you. That’s what you wanted, take him._  Greg squashed it ruthlessly. He would never take Nick against his will. He wanted the man to want him as well. The voice rose up once again. Remember what Grissom told you…he knows he cannot want; he takes what is given to him.

Nick whimpered and then moaned. Greg’s eyes snapped open as he realized that he was slowly plunging his finger in and out of the man. Gently removing his digit, he slumped in shame.

“I’m sorry, my own, please forgive me.” Nick knelt and pressed his forehead against his thigh, his free hand automatically went to the soft hair.

“It did not hurt, master.” Nick’s voice was tinged with shy amazement.

*~*

Greg washed his hands and then splashed cool water on to his face. He stared at his reflection once again at a loss. It was time for bed.

He had left Nick naked and kneeling beside his bed. Left, hell, he ran away. Using the proximity of distance to give himself a chance to breathe.

What the fuck was he thinking? Where would his boy sleep? Boy, he thought with a cringe. He was even starting to sound like a sanctimonious slave owner. But the glazed look in Nick’s dark eyes and the way he leaned into his touch at calling him that made him consider. He liked when Nick whispered ‘your boy’. Damn it all to hell, this is what he wanted, a companion to fill the gaping hole in his life.

Why hadn’t he just bought a pleasure slave instead of one so broken? He could have fucked a kid and snuggled up with him and not had to deal with all of the baggage Nick carried. Hell, his own baggage was just as heavy, but Greg wanted Nick, wanted to see him smile, and wanted Nick to want him.  Slaves could not want so he was back to square one, how would he ever know if Nick enjoyed his company, wanted to be in his bed and at his side? Boy, he had screwed up. The tight heat around his finger had been heady and he lost his mind. Greg was no better than those who had abused his slave.

Yet Nick’s voice, in awe that he had not been harmed, eased his conscience somewhat. And now bed. He wanted Nick in his bed, not to fuck him, but to hold him. He craved the touch of another. It was well within his right as master, but Greg was still uncomfortable in his own skin. Could he trust himself with Nick so close and his own loneliness taking over? He sighed. Greg could not avoid it any longer.

Turning off the lights, he stepped into his bedroom and took notice of his surroundings. Bless Rand, he thought. The small slave pallet was near his bed. Nick’s posture was statue like as he knelt on the bare floor. Naked and thin, Greg let his eyes wander to the part of the man that he had avoided.

The heavy ball sac and flaccid cock hung between the spread thighs. Greg swallowed thickly, willing himself not to lose control. He did not know if Nick should dress in his slave garments or get into the slave bed naked. Thinking of the whip marks, the man probably did not want the harsh cotton rubbing against him while he slept. He shook his head, he really sucked at the whole concept of being an owner of another human being. Again he was thinking of what Nick would want instead of just commanding him.

He sat on the edge of his bed and contemplated. If he wanted Nick to become a part of his life, then he just had to make decisions instead of straddling the fence. He slept naked; Nick needed to become accustom to that. Simple. He wanted Nick in his bed sans clothing then he should just start out that way. Even though it was truly to allow relief for the damaged back, who was in his bedroom that would question him on it? Besides his own conscience, Greg thought sickly.

“My own,” he said hoarsely, “When you were at the salve hub, did you sleep clothed?”

Nick’s brown eyes batted sleepily and Greg winced. He had left the man on his knees for far too long. “No master,” The man’s voice was scratchy with disuse.

He reached out and cupped the man’s face. “Rand has provided you with place to sleep. Into bed, my own,” Greg wanted to kiss those thin lips but pushed the hunger down and away.

If Nick’s legs had fallen asleep, he did not seem to notice. The battered man had an innate grace as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead in front of Greg’s feet. “Yes master, thank you master.” Then he rose languidly and slipped between the thin sheets of the pallet.

Greg hung his head as he slipped out of his own clothing. His sheets were cool and he shivered. Looking down, he noted that Nick had turned toward the wall with his battered back exposed. He turned off his lamp and settled more deeply under his blankets. He prayed that sleep would come quickly.

*~*

Nick huddled under the thin sheet. He forced himself to be very still. He knew how to feign sleep. It was in the silence when his former master would snuffle and then breathe regularly that he would allow himself to relax. He had programmed himself to cue into any change in breathing pattern that would alert him to on coming blows.

He was not acclimated to his new master. He stayed very still, listening to the man toss and turn, then huff and sigh. Nick was not sure what to expect. But for once, he did not believe it would be violence. His master’s gentle hands had broken through his outer defenses. Emotions were vivid across cheekbones that would surge with color, eyes that were deeply brown and expressive. Nick may not yet understand his new master, but the young man was easier to read than cold calloused owners who understood what a slave's place was as well as their duties.  Having a soft, luxurious slave pallet was new to Nick, just as having a slave was new to his master, he realized.

He had thought the master would slap the ointment on his back and buttocks before shoving the cream inside of him. He could not help but go rigid, when the cool fingers touched his ass. He knew his rectum would be next. He was still sore internally from his last service to his former slave trader. The man had been smart not to leave him ripped and bleeding, it would have lowered his already meager price.

It was shocking to Nick how his master’s voice soothed him, he did not understand why he accepted the endearments of ‘my own’ and ‘my boy’ but it made him feel safe and protected. Until the moment he was breached.

He wanted to cry out and moan, thinking of the agony and how close it was to his normal prep before he was violated. His master was careful though, gentle touches with increasing pressure until he could not withstand it and relaxed.

It was strange feeling the foreign digit in his body. Before if he was prepped it was usually two fingers jabbed deeply before a careless scissoring that lead to being forced wide open by a cock.

He knew his master was only treating him, but there was a strange insistence to the probing that had him wanting to squirm. The feeling became maddening and he whimpered at the heaviness in groin that was unexplainable. Then the spark of feeling that was not pain went up his spine and he moaned. That felt so good and his cock responded to his surprise. It was rising on its own rather than being jerked roughly into an erection by a slave trader's calloused palm.

He was shocked yet again when the finger disappeared and his master was asking for his forgiveness. That was just unheard of. And of course he reacted dumbly, by going to his knees and placing his head against his master, offering up an unwarranted reply. That action alone with such impudence would have warranted punishment.

But no, his master had touched his hair and bade him to be still as he disappeared into the bathroom. His master was so exasperatingly different. He was not sure sure he would ever find the right rhythm with the man. He had given him an order to go to bed when he returned so he obeyed.

But listening to the tossing and turning, he was afraid he would never get to relax enough to sleep.

*~*

Greg sighed deeply and turned onto his side. The moonlight caressed the form of his slave through gossamer curtains. The marks became shadow and the lines of the body a mystery. He knew that Nick was not asleep either; the man’s body was unnaturally still to be slumbering. He gave up.

“Nicky,” and sure enough the backbone tightened minutely, “come here, my own.”

The man trembled as he stood at Greg’s side. Greg took a deep breath, “I’m not going to fuck you, my own, not now." Greg bit into his bottom lip sharply, "I need you,” his voice sounded small. He lifted the blankets and said, “Get into bed.”

Nick lowered his head, “Yes master, thank you master.”

They lay face to face. Greg cursed his weakness. “I know this going to be strange,” He turned and pulled Nick’s arm over his hip. He sighed as their bodies came into contact. Nick’s body was rigid even as his flaccid cock bunched up against Greg's ass. “Relax, my own,” Greg said reveling in the heat of the man, “I would hold you but your back would not handle it. So, indulge me. Hold me.”

“Yes master, thank you master,” Nick’s breath whispered across his nape and the warm hand curved slightly across Greg's abdomen.

“No thank you, my own.” Greg replied sleepily. He knew he should reassure his boy more but the full body contact had him relaxing and sliding into sleep.

He did not know that Nick’s body lost its tension as well. His newly purchased, damaged slave curved around him and followed him into a deep sleep.

*~*

Nick’s first reaction was that his back was aching. Some how in the middle of the night he had decided to sleep on his whip abraded back. The second reaction was that he was warm and comfortable despite of his back. That must have been why he did not wake up.

His heart stopped when a warm breath ghosted across his chest. He opened his eyes cautiously and saw a brown and blonde head resting on him. They had turned where Greg had his head on Nick’s chest and his thigh between Nick’s legs.

The man sucked in a cautious breath. He felt the hard press of flesh against him. Greg snuffled in his sleep and then rolled over pressing his bottom against Nick’s skin. Nick let himself relax and breathe slowly. His master was not going to fuck him, not yet anyway or so he said.

Nick began to think.

His master was obviously a novice. The hub owner had given him some direction as to what general slave duties were, especially those of a body slave. He blushed now at how naïve he had been. He had not known then what he knew now.

His former slave trader would have beaten him bloody if he even considered thinking on his own. But his new master? Nick felt a spark of warmth when it came to the hesitant man. He was trained on how to take care of a master. And this master had asked for his help. Maybe Nick could finally put that earliest training to use.

He shivered as he slid from the warmth of the bed. Greg grumbled lowly and turned into the heat that his body had left behind. He went completely still. His master sighed and rubbed his cheek against the sheet before breathing evenly once more. Nick needed to move.

He ignored the signals of aches and pains his body was sending as he made his way to the bathroom. He did not remember much from his aching terror of the shower. He simply felt his way around silently, finding and placing towels and toiletries for his master’s shower. Seeing a red robe hanging from the door, he grabbed it and made his way back to his master’s bed. He laid the length of the robe across the foot of the bed and found soft supple leather moccasins. He placed them where when his master swung his legs from the bed they would be at the ready.

He looked longingly at the slave clothing folded neatly at the end of his bed but he had not been given the command to dress. So breathing deep as he had in the first days of his training, he slid down to his knees at his master’s bedside and settled his resting posture. Focusing on his breathing, he let everything else go. As he drifted into that hazy place that took him away from the pains of his body, he realized that his breathing matched that of his master. Again, a warm feeling spread through his body. He could be a good boy for his master.

*~*

Greg soaped his body acutely aware that Nick knelt on the marble flooring. His slave was going to need to bathe as well but he wasn’t going to put him through the terror of a shower, not again. The large two person tub filled with warm water should help the healing damage as well.

Greg knew of pain and damage. His hand rested on the nape of his neck, the scar of the lab mishap was faded and the edges had worn away but never fully gone. Grissom had suggested that his father had been behind the gross negligence that had a relatively peaceful experiment exploding into flames. He shivered at the memory of burning glass landing on his skin. There had never been enough proof to warrant an investigation.

Greg had let it go. His father was the executive of a corporation and could easily buy off the legal system. He had deemed it unworthy to fight an uphill battle. His father did not come to see him in the hospital, just a few of his lab employees and of course Grissom.

He shut off the blissfully warm water and stepped out of the shower. Nick knelt up silently and offered him a towel that was toasty from the towel warmer. He cupped the man’s face and said, “Thank you, my own.”

He still felt off kilter at finding Nick kneeling naked at his bedside. His slave had taken the initiative to prepare his things for his morning routine. Maybe Nick was not as broken as he originally thought. Despite the mere hint of sexual intimacy had his slave shaking in terror.

“Nicky,” the brown eyes lifted to his own, “I want you to draw yourself a bath, you will have twenty minutes,” Clear defined commands should not fail him, Greg thought ruefully, “then kneel beside the bed, we will have to treat your wounds.  I will take you downstairs to meet Rand. He will go over the routines of keeping the household.” He gripped the man’s neck firmly and watched as the eyelids droop to half mast, “Make no mistake, you answer to me alone.”

“Yes master,” Nick replied quietly.

“You know so much more of what is needed and what is expected of a normal slave than I do, you have permission to speak to Rand on whatever you might need for those duties.” Greg hesitated, “I will see you in the bedroom in twenty minutes, my own.” He trailed his thumb over the man’s cheekbone.

Nick pressed his forehead against the marble and said, “Yes master, thank you master.” He then went about Greg’s dictates without the normal skittish movements. It seemed that Nick was more at ease. Grissom was right; Greg thought ruefully, he is looking to me because I’m his master.

He gave the man his privacy, deciding not to argue with himself any longer. Grissom said he had good instincts and obviously his newly acquired slave did as well. He was going to have to just do instead of analyzing each action. He dressed and as he made his way back into his room, Nick was waiting well shy of the twenty minute mark.

Too much time allowed, he thought, I’ll have to adjust accordingly. Nick wouldn’t take the opportunity to indulge himself for sexual gratification; he had been trained not to. He went through the same process as he had the night before, taking note that Nick did not tense near as much. Greg was careful to treat the healing rectum gently and efficiently. No more primal caveman attitude, he thought firmly. He handed the man fresh slave attire and bid him to follow.

He could do this, he thought. Rand was gracious and seemed to put Nick at even more at ease. Greg took the time to make a call. Grissom was waiting and expected them by lunch. He looked over at Nick’s serious face. As much as he was apprehensive at becoming a Master, he wanted to be good for Nick.

*~*

Nick knelt as his master’s side while the servant, Rand placed wonderful smelling food on the table. His stomach perked up and took notice. It was strange after all the neglectful abuse, his anatomy still thought it had the right to be fed.

Not that he was worried this time, Grissom had explained how to feed a slave and he was sure that his master would not forget. The touch to his neck had his lip twitching, he had to school his expression.

“My own?”

“Yes master,” he replied dutifully and looked up at the youthful features. He felt a pang. Now that he felt that he could make more observations, he realized that he was older than his master. His heart thumped painfully. How long would it be before the man realized that there were more desirable bodies out there and he would be shipped to a brothel?

No, his conscience argued, his master had an opportunity to look over the stock in the pens and he had made his decision. He had bought an old, beaten, battered slave and seemed to be pleased if not ill at ease with his decision. Nick could please his master.

Greg had that thoughtful look on his face and Nick found it almost endearing. He was no doubt trying to figure out how to get across what he was thinking in the context of being an owner. It made him want to nuzzle against the man’s thigh to reassure him. He was not ready for that kind of familiarity, Nick did not know the limits of his new master’s grace as of yet.

“Is having you sit at the table to join me for breakfast unheard of? Answer me truthfully, my own. You are not going to starve but feeding you from my hand all the time will be tedious for me and for you.” Greg worried his bottom lip with his straight white teeth.

Nick cocked his head to the side. How he wanted to sit at a table like a man again! It was like the apple of temptation. He knew better though. He did not want to take advantage of the opportunity only to have Master Grissom slam his master in a few hours. The older man was correct, for his master to be accepted as a slave owner, he had to act accordingly.

“Yes, master, it is unheard of in public, social settings.” He said slowly and then a small idea formed. He had seen it before with some of the slave trader's more sympathetic friends. “It is your decision on whether or not I am to be fed and how I am to be fed.” He emphasized the word how and trusted that his master’s intelligence would grasp what he was trying to convey without him taking liberties that a slave could not.

“Ah,” Greg said slowly. Once again Nick’s lips twitched as he watched his master load a small plate. He handed the dish to him and stated quietly, “I’ll have to ask Grissom about the silverware. Here’s a glass of juice as well. Eat, my own, that’s an order.” Greg smiled ruefully.

Nick did not have to be told twice. The food was delicious, fresh muffins, bacon, grapes, and melon. He nearly moaned as the orange juice exploded on his taste buds. His master filled his plate twice over. Again, his stomach, not used to the amount of food, began to protest. Taking a chance, he folded his hands in his lap and pressed his head against his master’s thigh.

“Too much, my own?” Greg sounded concern. “I did it again, didn’t I?” He cursed lowly. “You are just much too thin and I’m not thinking. Let me take your plate.”

Nick offered the plate with his eyes lowered as his master caressed his face; he was beginning to long for that gentle touch, “My good boy.”

“Your boy, master,” Nick looked up at the gusty sigh. He noticed that his master had a coffee cup and a small leather bound book in front of him. Greg observed his curiosity much to his mortification. His master just lulled him into a sense of security.

“It’s a good thing we are going to Grissom, my own.” Greg said with abhorrence, he lifted the book and Nick read An Owner’s Manual for Slave Guidance and Practices, Volume 15, “This is for the fucking birds, and I quote: It is like a babe in the wild, you must guide it with a firm hand so that it may now its place.”

Nick wanted to wince. Nothing brought home that one was a slave like being called it.

“What utter bullshit,” Greg growled. His slender fingers gripped Nick’s nape and the Nick actually wanted sigh in pleasure. His master’s touch was comforting. “You are not an it, my own, you are my boy. Grissom seems to understand that. He’ll make sure that I learn how to be a good master for you.”

“My master,” Nick was surprised at how loose his tongue had become when his master said things like that.

“That’s right, Nicky, my boy.”

*~*

Grissom sighed and filled his hands with strawberry blonde hair. She was just too good with her mouth and wicked tongue, he came and came hard. She looked up with amused blue eyes.

“You are such a bad influence on my boy, my kitty cat.” He said as she cleaned him and tucked him away.

“Billy is much too sweet, he needs corrupting,” she replied and looked over at the blushing boy at her side.

Grissom just smirked and gestured to the boy. The boy nearly leapt into his arms. He nuzzled at the tender nape and felt a shudder wrack the thin frame. “We are going to have visitors for the next few days. I will be training a new master and his slave.”

Catherine stretched sinuously, “Oh what fun, a new playmate,” She purred.

“No,” Grissom stated firmly. His girl noted his tone and knelt in proper submission. “His slave has been through too much. He is going to need comfort not teasing.”

She pressed her forehead to against his foot and responded lowly, “Yes, my master.”

“Good girl, now be still,” Grissom snaked a hand against his boy’s straining cock. “You are such a good boy.”

Billy’s eyelashes fluttered and he moaned, “Your boy, master.”

Grissom growled in satisfaction, “Mine.”

*~*

Greg felt butterflies in his stomach as they pulled into the long circular drive of the Grissom estate. It was great honor. Grissom was a known recluse when it came to his personal life.

For reassurance, he carded Nick’s dark hair. He and his slave were to both be trained. Just the memory of the dark tone and the feelings the older man had evoked from him made him nervous. Greg trusted Grissom, looking down at his kneeling slave. He had to.

Rand, the god send that he was, had them packed and the travel smooth. His conversation with his father had not been so. Thinly veiled threats and innuendo about his lab and his employees had his blood boiling. Nick shifted and he realized that he had tightened his grip.

“I’m sorry, my own,” Greg sighed, “You will find out that when I think of my father I get agitated.”

The weight of Nick’s head settled against his knee, “Yes master.”

Rand pulled to the entry way and opened the doors, “Three days, sir?”

Greg felt Nick’s presence at his shoulder, “At the very least, if longer I will let you know.”

Rand’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he replied, “Very good, sir.”

A slender beautiful woman opened the door. Her hair was gold with hints of fire; the sheer pink fabric draped her body from one creamy shoulder to mid thigh. Her collar was gold and diamonds. “Welcome to Master Grissom’s, my master is expecting you.” The man that was waiting brought Greg to a complete stand still. What ever he was expecting, it was not this.

Grissom normally wore slacks, with dress shirts and sweaters, even in the Nevada heat. With his glasses perched on his nose, he could look like an absent minded professor. Master Grissom made Greg's mouth go dry.

Maybe he had been expecting leather or dress pants and shirt. Grissom stood with his trade mark smirk, his blue eyes alit with knowledge, and Greg’s toes curled. He wore a royal blue kimono and matching silk pants, his elegant feet were bare. Greg could easily see himself kneeling at those feet and had a feeling that before it was over, he would.

“Greg, my boy,” Grissom took Greg’s hands in his own. The older man pulled him into an embrace and whispered, “Relax, no harm will come to you. I’ve got you and you are safe.”

Greg shuddered at the same words that he had used with Nick. Just the breath against his ear made him want to sag in the older man’s arms. He knew that Grissom wouldn’t let him fall. He pulled back, desperately searching for Nick, wanting to touch his boy and regain his equilibrium. Grissom smirked and seemed to read his mind.

With a snap of the older man’s fingers, Greg’s attention shifted to the young man kneeling near Grissom. “Billy, show our guests to their suite. We will have lunch on the patio, Greg, either Billy or Cath will fetch in about half an hour.”

“Yes, ma,” Greg paused with a frown; he pulled Nick closer to him, “Okay, Griss.” Not letting go of Nick, he followed the fine boned blonde deeper into the mansion.

With a low bow, Billy left them in the middle of large bedroom. Greg searched for the slave pallet and noted that there was not one. Damn it, he groaned mentally. He and Nick had only had one night alone and Grissom expected them to share a bed. He resolutely disavowed his own pitiful display of need and ignored the fact that he had ordered the battered man into his bed already.

Better get used to it now; they had a moment to rest from the long drive. He really did not know what Grissom had in store for them and he wanted to make sure that Nick would be okay; if he got uncomfortable they had a signal between them. He took Nick’s hand and led him to the bed. He saw a ghost of a frown before Nick’s features smoothed out once again.

“Lie down, my own,” He said and then amended when Nick grasped the comforter, “on top of the covers. I don’t know about you but I need to stretch out and I’m sure you do to with kneeling for the duration of the ride. We need to talk, Nicky.”

Nick crawled across the bed and lay very still as Greg got in beside him. “Turn to me, my own.” Greg wanted to sigh at the naked fear in Nick’s brown eyes. It felt like two steps forward and three steps back. He took one of Nick’s damp palms into his own. “You have nothing to fear from me, my own.”

“Yes master,” Nick said licking his dry lips.

“I truly don’t know what Grissom has planned, my own, but my first obligation is to you. I know all the drivel about you not having wants and that I inflict my will upon you, which I think, is utter bullshit. I cannot have you retreating in fear where I won't be able to reach you. I need to know if things make you uncomfortable. If you are my side then touch my hand. I know that you are okay if you rest your weight against my leg when you are kneeling, but if you take my hand which is not a natural move for you then I will take it as your warning bells are going off and I will make the necessary adjustments. Do you understand, Nicky?”

Nick seemed to relax as he spoke, which made Greg breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes master.”

“This one might be harder,” Greg reached out and cupped the man’s face. “I will not let you out of my sight but if I’m not near you then call out, Master, and I will come to you.” Nick gave a minute shake of his head, “Yes, call out to me and I will come to, my own. You are my boy, mine, and for all of this ‘training’ that does not change. Tell me you understand.”

“Yes master,” Nick whispered, “your boy.”

“That’s right, my own, my boy.”

*~*

Too soon, the same blonde boy returned. Nick started at the quiet, “My own.” He hadn’t been asleep, just not alert. Taking a quick inventory, he realized that his master was in his arms and their legs were tangled.

His heart jumped into his throat. He could see the boy’s curious green eyes. He knew he would not be punished by his master when Greg nuzzled his cheek against his chest. The actions of Master Grissom were still unknown. Even if the two slaves that he had observed did not look abused, looks could be deceiving.

Would the older man encourage his master to punish him? Would drawing comfort from each other’s arms be discouraged? He froze. When the hell did his body decide that holding his master, a man, in his arms was comforting?

He looked up and saw his master’s patient gaze and nearly stumbled out of the large bed. His master steadied him with a firm grip.

“Easy, my own,” His master tugged on him gently and held him loosely within his arms. Taking a chance, he laid his head against his master’s shoulder. “That’s right, my own,” His master’s voice was thick, “I’ve got you and I will keep you safe.”

He followed his master at the accepted two steps behind out onto a sun drenched veranda. Grissom looked like a king on his throne as the female slave knelt up and offered him food. His smile made Nick feel queasy. He hoped his master knew what he was doing.

“Before you join me, Greg, Billy has some things that you and your boy need to change into. Follow him and he will show you the changing area.”

If Nick were a free man again, he would protest at this constant maneuvering to keep them off balance, but he was not. He had to rely on his master who had a strange expression his face. Greg did not say anything. His slender palm took Nick’s hand and they followed the boy.

Billy handed his master two bundles of cloth, rich brown and vibrant red. His master waited until the boy departed before turning.

“Trust me, Nicky,” His master breathed. His master’s brown eyes were almost dewy with emotion. He hoped that he could. He knew that sex with the man terrified him. The sweet gentleness in the chocolate eyes gave him pause. Maybe Nick could wrap his mind around it eventually.

Holding his master’s gaze, he slipped to his knees and whispered, “Your boy, master,” He gulped and said tentatively, “Always.” And his master’s lips revealed a sunny smile.

The slender fingers touched his face and he pressed into the warm palm, “Mine, Nicky, I’m not going to let you go.”

He watched his master unfold the robes. His master seemed to blush under his gaze as he slipped off his clothing. Nick let himself observe the man’s body without drawing attention to himself.

His master’s body was long and lean. The man had maybe a couple of inches of height on him. Not overly muscular, Greg had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His chest was smooth. He could not bring himself to look at the flesh between his master’s legs. He just could not. His master shrugged on the robe that fell to mid thigh and tightened the belt.

“Now you, my own,” Nick lowered his head as he stood. Being naked was not new and it was his master’s right. He went through the mechanical motions of shrugging the red material over his head and pushing the pants from his hips. He folded his clothing neatly and offered it to his master.

The silk felt good against his fingertips. And he realized, it would not chafe his back and buttocks. The robe was of the same design of his master’s. He was grateful for what covering it provided.

They were finally seated before Grissom. Nick nearly sighed at the soft cushion that was provided. It was wide and comfortable and allowed him to curl his legs instead of kneeling. Without even realizing it, Greg had maneuvered him between his legs and Nick settled against his master’s thigh easily. The man’s hand in his hair felt so good.

*~*

Greg felt like a lamb being led to slaughter. Grissom looked like he was ready to feast.

“Relax, Greg,” The voice was back. How Grissom could change his voice amazed him. He had talked to the man thousands of times.

Not since the night before had his cock ever responded to that voice. Greg just did not understand it. Grissom seemed to have this secret knowledge. He looked down and saw that the woman had her head against Grissom's leg. The expression on her face was adoring.

How he wanted Nick to look to him with the same regard.

“Come here, Greg.” He could not resist. With one last reassuring squeeze to Nick’s nape, he moved to stand before Grissom. He felt pinned beneath the weight of that deep blue gaze. His knees began to shake.

“Say what you have been trying to say, Greg,” The tone was like fine wine, warming him from the inside out. “You are safe, sweet boy, say it.”

His eyes fluttered and he whispered, “Master.”

Warm hands gripped his hips and pulled him forward, “Such a beautiful, sweet boy, and one that will take care of his own sweet boy.” He felt the belt being loosened; exposing his straining cock at the man up to this moment had been a mentor, a pseudo father figure. His cheeks burned, knowing that his was completely exposed.

“Show me, sweet boy, show me what you have been trying to resist,” The voice had him falling to his knees. His robe was pushed from his shoulders and he was laid bare.

His mind was floating as hands carded his hair that curled at Greg's nape, caressed his face, massaged his shoulders, and then the heavy weight settled up on his nape. “Look at me, sweet boy.” The pressure increased, “You are such a natural. If you did not have the potential to master as well, I would keep you as my boy.” Grissom's hand guided Greg's to the straining, leaking cock between his tight thighs.

Greg's breath hitched and he was petted once more, “For now you are just a sweet boy who wants to please me.”

Licking his lips, Greg replied, “Yes master.”

“Then cum for me,” Grissom squeezed the back of his neck. Greg’s mind wanted to argue but his body obeyed. His back arched as his hand worked his slippery cock, and he came hard. So hard that his reluctant mind went fuzzy.

When he caught he breath, he was in Grissom’s arms. The man smirked at him. “You did well, sweet boy.”

*~*

Nick huddled against his master’s empty chair. Anything to keep those piercing blue eyes from zeroing in on him, he thought wildly.

He had never witnessed such an act. His strong, vibrant master had melted under Master Grissom’s influence. It made his stomach heave and he wanted to escape. Surely his master did not expect the same response out of him for the older man. He was just beginning to feel safe with Greg but the developments of watching his handsome master kneel and then cum on command had Nick backtracking.

Yet, he watched as the beautiful scantily clad woman wiped away the traces of seed from his master’s groin. He felt a defensive anger surge. He did not want the woman’s hands on his master. It was his job to care for the man, HIS.

He had heard Grissom offer to keep his master as his boy. That terrified him. What if his master decided that Grissom’s experience was what he needed. Nick was a lot older than the young blonde boy and women’s ages could be deceptive. He wanted his master’s attention, to remind him that Nick was his, his boy.

He did not realize that he whimpered in the back of his throat and his master’s dark eyes turned towards him. He automatically straightened his posture and lowered his eyes. He was afraid that he would lose face and beg. He could not embarrass his master. He did not want to be sent away. He felt wetness on his face as he argued with himself. He would spread his legs for his master if only the man would keep him.

Warm hands cupped his face and lifted his head. His master’s eyes were both sated and concerned. His body was once again covered in the short brown robe. Relief flooded through Nick. He had his master’s attention and he wanted to keep it.

“My own?”

He knelt up and stalled. He could call out or touch his master’s hand as directed. Throwing caution to the wind, he wrapped his arms about his master’s hips and pressed his cheek against the man’s stomach, inhaling the rich male scent of satisfaction. Satisfaction that Nick should have been able to provide his master. His shoulders shook to hold back the torrent of emotion that was desperate to break forth.

Flashes of the kind slave hub owner, the malicious glare of the slave traders, the brutal beatings, the fuckings that could only be called rape, being passed around like a party favor, losing his job, losing his livelihood, losing his life, losing his identity boiled inside his gut. He clutched at his master and whined. He could hear the buzz of voices but all that mattered was that he did not let go. He could not let go, he did not want to be sent away.

He felt a warm breath gust across his face and Nick refocused. His master was kneeling before him and had their foreheads pressed together. He could finally hear the words that his master whispered, “Come back to me, Nicky…I’ve got you, my own. You are safe, you are mine.” Over and over, the words flowed like soothing water.

He surged forward and pressed his closed lips against Greg’s full ones. He was so desperate that even the fear of repercussion did not stop him. He wanted his master. He wanted his master to know that he was his boy and did not need anyone else.

Greg gave a muffled yelp of surprise before nipping at Nick’s lips. Nick willingly submitted, opening his mouth to the smooth glide of his master’s tongue. He moaned at the sweet taste of his master and reveled in the scent of his master in his nose. His master was claiming his mouth and marking him as his own. When the lips pulled away from his mouth to nuzzle his temple, he was cradled against the warm, damp flesh of his master’s neck, Nick purred, “My master.”

He heard Master Grissom speak quietly to his master, “Excellent. You two are going to do just fine.”

*~*

Greg felt dizzy and disoriented. Still elated, screaming from the rooftop happy. Grissom had helped him with Nick where they could sit side by side on the lounger. Food and drink was but a reach away.

Nick faced him as they had on the bed and their legs were tangled together. The dark eyes were lowered. Greg licked his lips, wanting to chase the taste of Nick. Grissom had whispered in his ear that there was much to talk about, but his boy needed him.

With that same pressure, Grissom stated, “You are more than half way there and don’t even realize it yet, sweet boy. By teaching you how to submit you will understand how to care for your slave. Here all public perception is off, that will come as you learn. Here in the safety of my home, take care of your boy.” Then the older man had pulled him into a gentle embrace by cupping his ass and whispering in his ear, “I will take care of you.”

Even now, the memory made him shudder. Looking at Nick’s dark head he wondered, would he be able to invoke the same reaction out of the broken man? He plucked a sugared strawberry and said quietly, “My own.”

Nick looked up cautiously, “Master?” Greg brushed the strawberry against the thin, masculine lips. Watching the man accept the strawberry, the grains of sugar clinging to soft warm lips made Greg want to feast on Nick’s taste once again.

Greg looked around surreptitiously before smiling at his boy. Grissom and his slaves were nowhere to be seen. Good, it was just the two of them, in close proximity with some of the barriers breached.

“Tell me about your life before,” He squeezed Nick’s boney hip when the man tensed, “as your master, my own, I want to know everything about you. You are such a smart man, I would never assume to doubt your intelligence.” He worried his bottom lip, “In some ways, even though I want to murder your former traders, you are much better at this than I. Here, at Master Grissom’s, we are safe, no one to intrude or interfere or pass judgement on what goes on between just the two of us.”

As Nick accepted a drink of water, Greg was aware of the subtle change in him. They still had to deal with his reaction to Greg’s, well, he thought with a blush. They had to deal with the fact that a master fell to his knees. And how he hoped Grissom would be able to guide him through that one.

Nick’s eyes held softness in the dark depths. How he hoped that that gentleness was for him and him alone. “I was an investigator. I did a pretty good job. I always got good supervisory reviews. I made sure that I was above reproach and courteous. I did not want to give management any reason to fire me.” At that, his boy frowned a little. “We were taken over by corporate out of Nevada. The new supervisor, Conrad Ecklie, came in with a chip on his shoulder.” Nick’s body tensed and made Greg curious. “I’m sorry, master; it is not my place to question free men.”

Ah, “No fear, my own, we are safe. You have a good mind and good instincts, with me as much as you are able, speak your mind.”

“Yes, master,” Nick ducked his head, “Mr. Ecklie had requested a review into my division. He called us in one by one, questioning our practices and our former management. I guess he did not like my answers,” One shoulder lifted, “I was fired.”

Greg gently maneuvered Nick until the man rested against his chest. It amazed him that the terrified man now moved so pliantly. There was more there but he did not want to push. He wanted to revel in the heat, the weight, the sheer decadence of being near another living soul again.

“Enough for now, my own, are you still hungry?”

He could have sworn that he could feel the twitch of Nick’s lips through the thin robe but the man answered respectfully, “No master.”

He carded the soft hair and had to ask uncertainly, “Comfortable?”

At this, his boy did huff, “Yes, master.”

Greg grinned, “My boy.”

“Yours master,” Nick brushed his cheek against Greg’s chest before settling once more.

*~*

Grissom growled. The stunning submission that Greg had shown had made him hard. He flicked a glance to his girl who only smiled smugly. Billy however licked his lips and looked nervous. His boy, then, he thought hungrily.

He stalked forward and Billy sank to his knees. “Oh no, my boy,” He said throatily and lifted the slender boy. “You are going to be on your knees as well as your hands in my bed.”

Billy burrowed against his neck and replied, “Yes master.”

He looked over his shoulder. Catherine had her hand between her thighs. Naughty little pussy cat, he thought with affection. “Are you coming?” He snapped out.

His girl batted her eyelashes as she sucked on her glistening fingers. She slithered from the couch and moved with sexy swing to her hips, “Always, master.”

*~*

Nick bowed his head. His master had pinned him with those concerned brown eyes before disappearing with Grissom. Nick was now flanked by the woman and the boy.

His jaw clenched. Neither of the masters had given direction. What was he supposed to do now? Best to keep his mouth shut, he thought resolutely. Nick was already longing for the tall lanky man that was his master.

The woman let out a peal of laughter that had him focusing on her from the corner of his eye. If he had been free, he would have appreciated her beauty. Her strawberry blonde hair fell to her shoulders and was accented by the delicate pink of her robe? Nick wasn’t sure what to call the draped fabric.

“Hello,” her deep throated voice called, “Earth to Billy.”

Nick turned his attention to the kneeling boy. And boy he was, much younger than even his own master. Nick could see the rise of welts across the naked back and the green eyes seemed hazy. Once again he thought of his freedom, he would have comforted the kid like a kicked puppy.

The blissful smile that curved the pale pouting lips had Nick flailing in confusion. How could a beating make one happy?

“Leave me be, Cath,” came the quiet reply. “I’m having an out of body experience.”

The woman laughed again and brushed her shoulder against Nick’s catching him off guard. Nick had to bite his tongue hard to keep from yelping. “I’m Catherine and this Billy. You don’t have to be so controlled around us. Our master has told us that you need training. We slaves tend to stick together.”

Nick kept his body very still. He had heard this line before and was stupid enough to fall for it. It had taken days for him to be able to sit comfortably again. He knew that his master would not beat him, but he did not trust other slaves.

“You are Nick, right?” Catherine sounded mildly frustrated.

He felt the boy’s soft hand touch his thigh and his muscles automatically clenched. He heard the breathy ‘Ah’ and then a reproachful “He’s not ready yet.”

The woman snorted and the boy sighed deeply. “If you must play, play with me.”

Nick ignored them. The sounds of laughter and then the earthier sounds of sex filled his senses. His cock responded. Shit, shit, shit, he thought in agony. What would his master think?

He hoped that his master would not leave him stranded for long.

*~*

“I’m not sure about this,” Greg said, trying to dig in his heels. The man had roused him from the drowsy lethargy. He had been reluctant to leave Nick. The dark look in glittering blue eyes had him closing his mouth.

“Do you trust me?” Grissom turned on him. Greg took an involuntary step back. He needed to breathe. The man seemed to surround him all at once and not at all.

He licked his dry lips and croaked, “Yes. Of course, I do, Griss.”

The heavy hand settled on his neck. He wanted to curse the jelly in his knees. “Try again, sweet boy.”

He closed his eyes, “Yes, master.” He seemed to float because the next thing he realized was lying across a soft bed with his robe around his waist. He could feel the man’s weight across the back of his thighs. Warm, silky oil was being smoothed across his back.

“Being a master, not an owner, has many responsibilities.” Grissom’s tone changed to almost scholarly. “We recognize the need that resides in those that belong to us. Even if our cherished ones do not recognize it themselves.”

Greg sighed and relaxed under Grissom’s touch.

“Nicky has issues with sex. You and I both know this. You could use that against him easily. He wants to please and would do almost anything out of desperation.” Greg’s shoulders tensed but Grissom added more pressure. “Just keep doing what you are, he will bloom beautifully. And when you take him, he will be yours for always.”

He spread his legs without realizing it as Grissom began messaging his buttocks. He blinked at the sound of purring. He blushed when he discovered the sound emitting from his own chest. He rocked back against the fingers that began to tease the crease of his ass.

“You have needs, don’t you, sweet boy?” The voice slid into him even as the gentle pressure applied against his opening.

He couldn’t answer, he whined.

The pressure increased until the pressure became a sting as the finger breached his body. “What do you need, sweet boy.”

Greg blinked and answered honestly, “Nick.”

He felt a butterfly touch to his temple, “Good, but Nick is not ready to take care of your needs.” The brush against his prostate had his back arching. “What do you need, sweet boy?”

“M-m-master,” he shuddered.

“I’m here,” and the finger was joined by another. He hissed at the telltale breach of a butt plug. “You are not ready for me to take you yet, sweet boy.” The plug settled snuggly. He growled when the cock ring was snapped about his aching erection. “Now we can talk.”

Greg’s eyes snapped open. Grissom was smirking. Talk?!?

*~*

“Grissom!” Whatever warm floating, needy feeling he had was gone. Now he was just aching and confused and hell bent to come. He turned over onto his back and glared at the man.

Grissom just chuckled. He stretched out beside Greg’s supine form. The older man’s elegant fingers pushed his sweaty hair from his forehead.

“Being a master, I understand what your body needs, maybe even better than you do, sweet boy.”

Greg fought against the urge to relax. He pushed himself up into a seated position only to moan when the plug shifted in his body. It made his cock ache even more. He hissed angrily at the smirking older man.

“Oh, Greg my boy, I could have you eating out of the palm of my hand and you don’t even understand why.” Grissom seemed resign himself to Greg’s frustration and sat up as well. “You have had such a rotten life when it comes to affection. Your father has always had unreasonably high expectations of you which you exceed. He expects you to fall in line and you are strong enough to resist. He thwarts your emotional connections at every step. I’ve seen it. I know you are crying out for a connection.

“It surprised me when you bought another human being. I can understand the need. Yet, you are walking a fine line. You need to be dominated, Greg.” Greg’s mouth opened and he shook his head minutely, Grissom merely continued, “Yes, that is why it is so easy for you to fall for me. Do I think you could fall for another Master or dominate personality, yes, but not as easily. It is about trust and communication. You trust me, which is a great honor. You also know deep down that you can talk to me like you have never been able to talk to another. Your father has no influence on me.

“That is but one side of the equation. I can take care of your needs. When you fall, I won’t let you get hurt. Do you think Nicky is ready for that?”

Greg lowered his head, in part embarrassment and part shame. “No,” he replied quietly, “I am being selfish. He has no reason to trust me.”

Grissom ran his fingers through Greg’s soft hair before lifting his head. “Yes, he does. He knows you will not hurt him. In such a short time, you have given him an island of safety that he has not had since signing his contract. This is where even the most honorable men fail. You want him to feel the same for you as one man does for another. But can he? You hold all the cards. You are his master. He knows that if he displeases you, he will be sold. And with his age, it will be to a brothel. Have you ever been to one?”

Greg shook his head and scooted closer to Grissom. The man’s lips curved into a gentle smile and put an arm about his shoulders. Just the sound of the voice, not the dark tone, but the gentle caressing sound had him relaxing and ignoring the ache and need in his lower extremities.

“They are the lowest of the low. It should be outlawed or regulated. Too much corruption and too much money changes hands. Slaves in brothels are used for whatever desire or degradation is placed upon them. Most die within months, they are fucked until they can longer be fucked. With no medical care, the slaves die in agony.” 

When Greg shuddered, Grissom’s wide palm began running up and down his back. “Unfortunately, you and I do not have the power to change the system. Why do you think I have Catherine?”

Greg looked up at the deep blue eyes. “Catherine was a dancer in a club on the strip. She was and is beautiful and vibrant, but aging with younger and newer bodies constantly streaming into the city. I became obsessed with her shows. And one night I heard her owner making snide remarks and a brothel owner offered for her. I will ever be thankful that her former owner said that he would consider it. I stopped at nothing until I owned her.”

“Do you love her?” Greg licked his dry lips.

Grissom pulled back and stared intently. Greg felt the bug under a microscope feeling once again. “Do you think that you love Nick? After a day?” Greg went to nod but Grissom’s hand tightened in his hair. “If you were to ask Nick if he loved you, what do you think his answer would be?” Greg felt apprehension, “He would say yes because he doesn’t want to be sent to brothel.”

Greg lowered his face, flaming with shame. “I’m sorry, Griss.” He was shifted until he sat in the older man’s arms, cradled and comforted.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my sweet boy, you are new but you have to learn.” He felt the man’s whiskers against his temple. “Now you are feeling unsteady and your boy is probably to the point of panic. Take him to your suite and follow your instincts. I will send Billy for you later.”

Greg nodded and shifted to stand. His focus was snapped back to the fact that he was both plugged and cock bound. “Griss?” He said and got no reaction, “Master?” And winced at the whine.

Grissom smirked and replied, “Yes, sweet boy?”

“Uh?” His face flared once again as he shifted his hips meaningfully.

“You’ll be fine,” Greg wanted to snarl at the pat on his ass. But Grissom just raised an eyebrow and waited. He huffed and walked as quickly as he could with the intrusion in his body.

Grissom was right. He needed some time to think. Most of all, he wanted Nick.

*~*

Nick wished that he could call out. His lower body was numb. And he was beginning to think that Catherine and Billy were rabbits, constantly fucking. It was just too much. His master said that if it was too much. Jaw clenched, he pushed the urge down. His master was with Master Grissom. He did not want to disappoint his own master. He bit down on his tongue and focused on being a good boy, inward to keep his body perfect.  Nick wanted for perfection for his master.

He did not realize that Greg had placed his hands under his elbows and was gently lifting him to his feet. When his weight shifted, he whimpered. Greg’s arms were reassuring, taking his weight and whispering that he wasn’t going to fall.

Greg’s scent of citrus and sandalwood with an undertone of dark rich coffee filled his nose, a unique scent signature to his master. He acted instinctually and turned into his master’s embrace. He burrowed into Greg’s chest and pressed his face into the soft skin of his master’s neck. He sighed and whispered, “My master.”

“That’s right, my own, I’m yours. Do you think you can walk?”

Nick pulled back and realized that, despite the pins and needles feeling he had long gotten used to, his blood flowed normally through his extremities. He nodded and replied, “Yes master.” He noticed as they slowly exited the room that they were under the piercing gaze of Master Grissom.

*~*

Grissom stared down at his boy and his girl. Catherine had put her pent up energy to good use and Billy was exhausted. Catherine looked sated and disconcerted. He knew where his girl was dwelling in her mind and he would not stand for it. But first, his sweet gentle boy needed his bed.

He scooped the lithe form into his arms and smiled as the green eyes blinked sleepily, “Master?”

“Tired, little one?”

“Mmmhmm.” Billy replied nuzzling against the skin at Grissom’s throat.

He pinned Catherine with a steady gaze until she knelt in response. He then carried Billy into his small room off of his master suite. Each of them had a space just for themselves. It had taken Billy the longest to accept the space.

Looking around at the posters and the video games, Grissom sighed inwardly at just how young his boy was. There was no such thing as freedom for those who were slaves, no law allowing for manumissions, just selling or death. Billy was his and he would never let him go.

He laid the boy in his bed and covered his naked body. Billy stirred and looked up owlishly. Grissom just kissed his forehead and slipped the kimono from his body. He draped it over Billy and shook his head. The boy snuggled into the fabric, bringing it up to his face and inhaling deeply.

“Love you, Master,” Billy’s voice was faint and drowsy.

“As I do you, little one,” Grissom felt his heart swell as he adjusted the curtains making sure the room was enveloped in darkness.

His protégé had much to learn, Grissom knew he had been cruel when it came to the subject of love. Greg would think him hypocritical and a liar if he knew just how much Grissom loved Billy and Catherine, he would die for them. With his youthful ignorance, Greg could do serious damage to Nick’s state of mind at this fragile point of building a bond between a master and his slave, a partnership that far outreached cold hearted laws.  It was the submission of one individual to another. The law took the true power of the relationship away in terms of slavery.  Grissom knew it was the submissive that held the power, not the master.  He did not doubt that Greg loved Nick. Nick was not ready for that love. Nick needed to feel safe enough to truly submit himself to Greg first before that bond would bloom into love.  Grissom knew that Greg worried that Nick was too broken but he knew better.  Just observing their natural instincts and grace when fear did not take over Nick and doubt did not overcome Greg's natural instincts, Grissom knew the bond would form.

Greg had surprised him and Grissom was at an age that it hardly happened.  In this dystopian world of corporate greed and disregard for humanity, a true switch was very rare.  An individual that could hold both desires within, dominance and submission.  Grissom could give Greg the dominance that he needed when he needed it but that situation would depend on Nick, with his history, overcoming the dissonance of understanding that his master could dominate him and care for him but also submit to Grissom.  Nick could see it as something lacking within himself to please Greg as a slave and forever worrying about being cast out.  The natural bond of dominance and submission could crumble without constant care.

Grissom studied his girl and his own feelings soured somewhat. Catherine really was a good girl, big hearted, and smart. She was a handful with her wicked sense of propriety. She, like Nick, was not born into slavery. Grissom gave her room to grow within the boundaries of society and protected her from the cruelty. She knew that she was loved and that she was safe. She could get unruly, usually around older slaves like herself. Maybe she could sense the desperation, the fear, the underlying despair and reacted.

God, he thought, she was just as beautiful as she was the first time he saw her dance. She had become his first obsession. Did he love her? Yes, with an aching pain that he could not marry her, protecting her if he were to die first. He tried to take her out into society in their early days. It had failed miserably. He did not come out of the experience unscathed.

He could deal his sweet little pussy when her claws came out. He would not have her any other way. He had several provisions for both Cath and Billy if he were taken from them too early by some demise.  A stray thought included Greg but Grissom let it go for the moment.

“You know you pushed a little too hard,” He said sternly and watched her head lower a fraction. “I told you to handle the new slave with care.” Her weight shifted almost imperceptibly. Any other master would not have noticed, but Grissom did. “No, you did not engage him but used blatant sex to keep him off kilter. He was not ready for that. You know better.”

Her head lowered to the ground, “Yes master.”

“I know that you think you will be punished and you will,” He used his darkest Dominant tone and watched her body shudder, “If you want to be spanked, pretty pussy, you only have to ask. So that is not your punishment. You will be in solitude, only watching and not participating for one day only, if you are good. Choose now if you wish to be gagged, my girl.”

“Yes master.”

“Go choose,” He watched as she moved gracefully to the chest. He had various chests throughout his home. Each of his slaves had specific tools and toys. He was not surprised that she picked the smallest gag. She hated to be gagged but was trained enough to know not to push. He did not mind her sass outside of discipline. Now, however, was not the time.

He fitted the ball and tightened the strap enough to be comfortable, not too tight. Her eyes showed her apology and he kissed her forehead. Grissom watched some of the tension drain away.

“Off to your room and rest, I assume you are as exhausted as Billy.” Her eyes lowered and he cupped her neck, “Don’t fret, I will come for you soon.” She nodded and once again knelt placing her forehead to the floor, and then she rose gracefully and made her way to the stairs. He watched her closely but did not see any distress in her body or long legged gait.

*~*

Greg was at a loss. It was not time for another meal, he was not tired but he knew Nick was from kneeling for such a long time. Then of course there was his annoying little problem, sitting was out of the question.

He looked out of one of the floor to ceiling windows and noticed a garden with tall bushes and riots of color. He bit his lip and grabbed a soft throw. If Grissom had a problem with it, well he could kiss ass, Greg thought in aggravation.

He took Nick’s hand and steered him through the thick carpet like grass. When they came to a stop under shady branches, he was surprised that Nick took the blanket from him shyly and stretched it out. He then knelt at the blanket’s edge, perfect posture and ready to serve.

Greg brushed his fingers through the dark hair, “You are perfect, my own, such a good boy. You know just what to do.” He thought it was kind of cute as Nick seemed to straighten even more. Greg could almost picture him puffing his chest out. “I want you to stretch out on the blanket with me, my own, give your knees a break.”

Nick placed his forehead at Greg’s feet and said quietly, “Yes master, thank you master.”

He waited until Nick was settled with his head resting on his folded arms. He wanted to growl. Just taking in the long, muscular legs and the swell of Nick's ass just barely covered in red silk made Greg's cock ache and bring back the harsh reminder that he was not only cock bound but plugged as well.

He was not at his most graceful as he fell, shimmied, and then rolled onto his side. Finally, he found a position of least resistance curled on his side facing Nick. He saw the confusion and hint of amusement on Nick’s face.

“What?” Greg ground out automatically and then wanted to kick himself as Nick's expressive face went blank, “Forgive me, my own, I’m a little uncomfortable at the moment. It has nothing to do with you and my tone was not appropriate at all. It is my current predicament that has nothing to do with you, my own. Would you like to ask me something?” Greg winced at his begging tone.  No wonder Nick stayed in a perpetual state of confusion. Oh god, he thought, how was he going to explain all of this?

*~*

Nick felt uncertain. He had a gut feeling what was wrong with his master. He had seen it before done playfully and watching his own master deal with it, he had felt the same bubble of humor that he had watching the master and slave as they had laughed over the graceless movement while wearing a butt plug.

He, too,  had felt it before, he thought with an inward cringe. The slave traders loved to leave him filled with an overlarge plug that left him feeling both exposed and gaping when it had been removed. And any man, free or slave would hate being cock bound. He had noticed that when his master’s robe had parted.

However, Nick was learning that some of the things that he had observed in other masters were true. Master Grissom was not unreasonably cruel. He had listened to Billy’s quiet conversation with Catherine when they took small breaks during their fuck fest that Master Grissom obviously allowed between his two slaves.

“He did not break the skin,” Catherine had sounded almost clinical. “Then again, he never does. It looks like you are going to be bruised for a few days.”

“Mmmhmm,” Billy had replied, sounding sleepy, “I love those kinds. It reminds me just how much Master cares. I love being able to touch them while he is away.”

“I love being able to touch you,” Catherine stated. Hearing the boy’s groan, Nick had turned cautiously to see that her long fingers were wrapped around Billy’s flaccid cock.

How could a beating make one feel good, he did not understand. Bruises had meant pain and degradation for him in the pens or standing on an auction block. Other slaves had whispered among themselves about how their masters loved to keep them plugged for easy access and how when the ring came off, their climax felt so good.

Good wasn’t a word he associated with the slave traders just pain and degradation with cruel creativity. Greg, his master, was different in ways that Nick could even begin to contemplate. Peering at the man as he squirmed on the blanket beside him, his lips twitched again. How could he not with the comical desperation on his master's expressive face. Greg, he thought of his owner's name once more, had the makings of the good masters that Nick knew existed.  

“Are you uncomfortable, master?” He said quietly. Greg had given him permission to speak after snapping at him. The general sweetness of Greg even had him apologizing almost immediately, he was growing on Nick. He could not deny it. Even if it were all snatched away from him, those dark hiding spaces would be filled with dark eyes and the ghosts of gentle touches.

His master flushed brightly, “Well, uh, I, well,” Greg trailed off. He rubbed his face briskly then took a deep breath, “You know that Grissom is training the both of us.”

Nick nodded, his gut twisting nervously at the thought of facing Grissom. “Yes master.”

Greg huffed in apparent annoyance, Nick battled down the automatic flinch. His master had assured him that the frustration was not directed at him, “This," Greg muttered gesturing at his own pelvic area, "seems to be a part of my training.”

Nick watched in part horror and part fascination as the brown fabric was lifted. He got his first view of his master’s cock, hard and leaking. It was not overly thick and would probably be considered average in length. Nick felt began to feel panic. It was his master’s right. He was sexually aroused and needed release. Nick was his slave, a trained body slave and a used sex slave. It was Nick’s job to take care of his master.

His job, he wanted to be his master’s good boy. He had to do it even if his mind screamed that he had not been ordered. Nick's terrified gaze zeroed in on that beckoning flesh. Be a good boy, he argued with himself.

“Master,” the word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He could hear the whine, the fear, the desperation and moved to place his head at his master’s feet. He had forgotten that they were stretched out on the blanket so his movement was awkward and jerky.

He felt his master’s arms about him and his voice in his ear, “Good boy, my own, such a good boy. This was my fault; it got to be too much. You followed my command, like a good boy, my boy.”

Nick cursed himself for his panic. He relaxed into Greg’s arms. How many times would his master have to soothe him before losing patience with him? How long before he would be sent to the brothel? His master needed a sweet, gentle boy like Billy to take care of his needs, not a frightened old battered slave that could not bear the thought of being fucked and hurt.

Greg just held him in peaceful solitude and he felt his heart begin to slow. Taking a chance he looked up at his master. Greg’s features were gentle, concerned, and shamefaced.

“I need Grissom’s training more than you, my own.” His master said quietly, apology thick in his heavy tone. “I act before thinking. I should have known what your reaction would be.” The blush flared once again.

“I am going to be honest with you as much as I can,” Greg’s voice lowered and the man curled forward. Nick slid his arm around his master’s shoulder hesitantly. He knew his master was aroused but the change in him was subtle. Like the first night, his master almost seemed lost and child like, “I want you, Nicky. Sexually," Greg blurted out baldly, "I want to share my life and my bed with you. I am so tired of being alone.”

Greg cupped his face with his elegant long fingers. "I want you and you need to know that. I want to touch you, talk to you, hold you, be held by you. I don't want to be alone anymore. I want you to be my companion in all things. You cannot be that for me if you are frightened of me. Will we have sex? Yes, eventually, I hope so. But know that I will never hurt you and I won't let anyone hurt you either as long as there is breath in my body, my own."

Nick kept very still when his master sighed, "My first lesson with Grissom was to talk. I understand that now. I need to talk to you and give you my expectation. I can do that and give you my affection as well. You are safe with me, Nicky. As much as I want you, I can wait. I've waited this long to find you, my own. I won't take you to my bed for your body until you are ready." Greg's eyelashes fluttered against shadowed skin, his voice thickened and lowered, "I need you to get used to being near me. I don't want to be alone. I want you in my bed for now as my companion not my pleasure slave. Let me draw comfort in just being close to you, Nicky."

He watched as Greg bit his full lower lip and slowly moved forward until their groins rested against each others. He froze. Nick's flesh was flaccid but Greg's length hot and damp settled against his hip.  He could feel his panic rising once again but he focused on his master’s face. There was no cruelty, anger, or hate. Just bashful worry and underlying gentle kindness that was his new master and it was time to put the old behind them. Sure there was lust and it was his master’s right to take him, but the man that was his master had begun a new unmarked trail in the path of his life as a slave.

It was trust.

"Yes master."

*~*

Grissom smiled. His boy was a lovely vision. Soft dirty blonde hair was spiky. His golden skin glowed and Billy seemed to revel in the welts that were still prevalent. He watched the boy trail his fingers over them as he continued to dress. Low slung blue green harem pants that were translucent. He could see the shadow of Billy’s ass and his delicate sac.

“Come here, little one.” Billy’s lips curved into a sweet smile as Grissom took him into his arms. He heard a faint whimper and ignored it. Catherine knew better than to protest now. If she made a fuss then her solitude would last longer.

“Tell me what you think of Master Greg’s slave, Nick.”

Billy bit his lip and worried it between his teeth. Grissom was patient with his youngest lover. It had taken quite a bit of work for Billy to trust that his questions were not traps setting him up for failure and punishment.

“He’s been hurt, master. By not only those who traded him but other slaves as well, he did not respond to Catherine’s overture as other slaves have. I think slaves tricked him into being punished.” Billy leaned into his master’s embrace.

Grissom cupped the boy’s ass. He was once again amazed at how his shy boy could be so insightful. “How did you know this, little one?’

Billy tensed under his hands before breathing deeply and relaxing once more, “I touched his thigh, master, hoping to give him comfort and the muscle went rock hard. It was not time for Catherine or me to push him. It would have frightened him even more.”

Wanting to touch his boy more, Grissom lowered the pants down past Billy’s groin and fondled the soft mounds, “You could have pushed him, little one. Neither Master Greg nor I gave you any commands.” He touched the softened pucker that his boy always kept prepared.

Billy rocked back minutely, “It isn’t right, master. Nick did not do anything that warranted punishment or fear.”

Grissom let one finger slowly enter his boy’s body and bit down on the tempting neck. Sinking his teeth in deep enough to mark and bruise. Billy whimpered as Grissom began teasing his body from the inside.

“My sweet little one,” He said against the sensitive shell of Billy’s ear, “I am going to need your help with training Nick not to be frightened and showing him how to submit for his master.”

“Yes master,” Billy shudder as Grissom placed maddening touches against his prostate. “Like you are training M-m-master G-g-greg?”

Grissom smirked and pressed deeply into the tight heat. “Not exactly, little boy, but you will be instrumental in Nick’s training.”

“Master,” Billy whined trying to keep from bucking into the fingers that stretched him. Catherine’s muffled whine answered. Grissom shot a warning glance and Catherine lowered her head.

“What do you want, little one? Do you want to come?” Grissom licked at the boy’s neck, enjoying the resultant shiver.

“O-only if it p-pl-pleases my master,” Billy ground out between gritted teeth.

“Perfect, darling boy,” Grissom said kissing his boy deeply, “Not now, though, you have had too much for one day and you still need your rest.” He eased his fingers from the boy’s body.

Billy’s green eyes squeezed shut and he bit down on his lip hard. Grissom frowned when a tiny trickle of blood oozed from the corner of Billy’s mouth.

“Billy, look at me,” He commanded, green eyes slitted open, “Too much, little one, tell me what you need.”

The fair head lowered shamefully, “My ring, my master.”

Grissom lifted Billy’s head, “No shame, little one, you are perfect in every way.” He snapped the cock ring in place and watched tears gather, “Billy?”

Billy blinked rapidly before going into a kneel at Grissom’s feet, “If it pleases my master?”

“You may,” Grissom said and watched as Billy placed wet kisses to the tops of both of his feet before kneeling up once again. He cupped the angelic face, “Perfect, my boy. You are mine.”

Billy pressed against Grissom’s palm and sighed, “Yours master.” Grissom could see that he had worked through the need and was calm once again.

Grissom was surprised at the doorbell peal. He frowned, he was never surprised. He pressed the intercom. Now was not the time for unwanted guests. “Phelps?” He growled. Billy whimpered and he put a reassuring hand to the back of the boy’s neck. He flicked a glance to Catherine and she moved into position at Billy’s side.

“Yes, sir,” Phelps replied briskly, “A Sara Sidle requests an audience, sir.”

Grissom’s growl became a low rumble in his chest. An unwanted guest, indeed.

He looked to his girl. Her blue eyes were worried and pinched. He went to release her gag but she merely pulled back and shook her head. “Then I want you to stay here until I come and get you.” She nodded and went to press her forehead to the floor, but he stayed the movement by lifting her to her feet. He kissed her forehead and put her into his bed. She curled around his pillow and became more relaxed.

Billy brushed his side. His boy had changed into the accepted royal blue slave attire. He kissed the lush mouth possessively. “I need you to take Master Greg and Nicky back to their suite and then join me in the parlor. If all goes well this won’t last long. I don’t want to disrupt their training for this.”

“Yes master,” Before Billy could turn, Grissom caught him and hugged him close. “Don’t worry, she has to go through me before she can get to either of you and that’s not going to happen.”

*~*

Greg started at the gentle hand to his shoulder. He blinked and realized that the heavy weight holding him down was Nick’s head cradled in his arm. Looking up, Billy stood with his head lowered respectfully.

The warmth and the sun had worked in conjunction, Greg felt lethargic. “I’m sorry, Billy, you and your master must think I’m the laziest man alive.”

He thought he saw the boy’s mouth twitch before replying, “My master suggests that you adjourn to your suite. He has some business to take care of and dinner will be served soon.”

“Did he happen to say what to do about this damn plug?”

Billy did grin at that, “No, sir. But it is wise not to goad my Master. Do you need help finding your way?”

Greg returned the smile, “I’ve got that under control.” He watched the slim boy bow and walk away taking note of the royal blue slave attire. Something was going on.  He looked down to see Nick’s dark eyes regarding him thoughtfully. He sat up gingerly and helped his boy do the same.

He waited. He wanted to see if Nick was truly gaining confidence and trust in being with him. He could easily ask him what was on his mind, but the man needed to gain his equilibrium in their relationship.

“Master?” Greg fought down the urge to shoot his fist in the air. He did, however, grimace as the plug shifted inside his body. He got to his feet and pulled Nick up with him.

“Yes, Nicky?” Instead of wrapping his arm around Nick's slender waist or shoulders, Greg chose to clasp their hands together as they made their way back to Grissom's hom.

The man’s eyes darted in the direction that Billy had departed and then back to Greg. “Why did you choose me?”

Greg felt his stomach drop. That was the last thing he expected Nick to ask.

*~*

Grissom walked into the parlor and took in the tall, brunette. He shook his head in a moment of agitation and then cleared his throat.

“Gil.”

“Sara.” He wanted to spit the name. How a one time trusted friend could become a hated enemy, he thought darkly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He watched as she pulled papers from her briefcase. “Here is the summons to officially declare yourself a slave owner. It has to be put into public record.”

“I am a known slave owner.” He felt Billy drop to his knees at his side. He watched Sara grimace as he placed his hand on his boy’s soft hair. He knew her feelings on slavery and the blind prejudice and he did not want her in his home. “I’ve never hidden the fact. I just do not take them into the public forums.”

Sara frowned, “Well there is no listing of a Gilbert Grissom in the SOIS.”

He lifted an eyebrow, “Slave Owners Information System? That is just in the planning stages and on a voluntary basis only. It has not got the full weight of law. It has been struck down as an infringement to privacy.”

“Well, this is an official summons, you can not refute it.” She said briskly.

“Of course I will deny it.” Grissom replied and watched as she opened her mouth, he easily overrode her. “At least until my legal team has looked over it. Besides, I find it odd that the Department of Enslavement would be bothered to send a lone summons to the private home of a corporate owner after working hours. Why would that be? I thought the department would have their hands full raiding the deplorable conditions of slave brothels?”

Sara huffed and shoved the papers back into her briefcase. “You are making this harder than it needs to be, Gil.”

“I don’t take kindly to personal vendettas, Sara. You had better be prepared to take this to its conclusion or back off now. I won’t warn you again.”

“This isn’t personal,” She growled as Phelps began steering her to the entranceway. “You haven’t heard the end of this, Grissom.”

“It ended a long time ago, Sara. Let it go.”

She turned and spat, “If it hadn’t have been for your bitch, you would have married me.”

Grissom felt Billy flinch and pulled him up into his arms. “And that type of relationship would have ended badly and the disgrace would have been yours. Please leave my home, you are no longer welcome. Any other attempts to make contact to me personally or to enter my grounds, will be seen as an unlawful entry and I will prosecute. As far as the summons goes,” Grissom lifted a negligent shoulder, "Have it curried to the legal department of Grissom Incorporated."

He nodded to Phelps, his long time manservant herded the unwilling female out of his parlor. He sighed and kissed Billy’s sweet mouth, needing to wash the unpleasantness away. “Come on, little one. How about we go cuddle our girl?” Billy nodded and burrowed into him.

Grissom knew he had to get his mind back on task. Greg and his boy needed his help. Sara Sidle could go to hell.

*~*

Greg took Nick by the hand, “Let’s get back to our suite, my own, and I will tell you.” He tried to ignore the fleeting look of disappointment before Nick carefully schooled his features.

How did he explain it? He was looking for a companion. There was something about Nick’s defeated demeanor that called to him that day in the pens. He wanted to get him out of the hell hole, first and foremost. The fact that he was a beautiful man despite the damage that had been inflicted on him was just a bonus in Greg’s opinion. If he wanted to be stupidly romantic, maybe their souls called out to one another in equal desperation.

He ignored the discomfort in his lower extremities as he lead them back through Grissom’s home. Once inside their suite, he gave serious thoughts to removing the blasted ring and plug but the thought of disobeying Grissom made him shiver. He pushed Nick gently into sitting on the bed. Pacing he could do with relative discomfort if the damn thing shifted inside of him, sitting on the plug he could not.

“I told you that I was tired of being alone, right, my own?” Nick nodded his head slowly. “I want a friend and companion. I don’t know everything about you yet, but I can tell you are an intelligent man. Just the state of our world took your livelihood from you. I wish I could change that.”

He sighed and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t want a kid. I’ve seen how young boys and girls are pawed over in the pens. I just didn’t want that. I say a prayer of thanks that I found you, my own. You are a man, Nicky, no matter what government and slave laws say. I want a man, a friend, a companion, and maybe eventually a lover.”

He heard Nick suck in an audible breath, “Not today, my own, and maybe not forever. If we never have sex, I can deal with that. I want you.  I want you to share my bed, allow me to hold and comfort you as I draw comfort from your arms. Why did I choose you? Because you were what I needed, my own.”

He didn’t realize that he had stopped pacing and wrapped his arms around his chest until he heard a quiet “Master.” Looking down, Nick had moved to kneel at his feet. He reached out trembling hand and brushed his fingers through his slave’s dark hair.

Nick’s voice shook as he said, “Thank you, master, thank you for choosing me.”

*~*

Grissom stripped Billy and maneuvered him into bed by his girl. Catherine had fallen into a fitful sleep, her expression marred by a frown. He kissed the wrinkled forehead and met his boy’s gaze. “I need to take care of some things. Hold our girl until I get back.”

He smiled as the gentle boy curved around Catherine’s sleeping form. He gave quiet orders to Phelps before heading towards Greg’s suite. He damned Sara once again for her interruption. He needed to continue Greg’s training but not before he took care of his girl and her fears.

He rapped quietly on the closed door. He was greeted by curious Greg whose expression quickly went stormy. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. He simply placed a hand around the younger man’s neck and gently pulled him into the hall. Not giving Greg time to speak, he kissed him, deeply and possessively, feeling the immediate pliancy.

He had his hands full and he would have to juggle everything carefully. “Look at me, sweet boy.” Greg’s eyes fluttered and he focused slowly. “I have had an unfortunate guest who has disrupted things for this evening. I have instructed Phelps to be prepared to setup a dinner service in your suite when you and your boy are ready.”

He ran his hands over Greg’s shoulders, down his back, and cupped his ass. He did smirk at the needy whine. “Enough for this evening, sweet boy, you can take them off.” He allowed his whiskers to scrape against the sensitive flesh of Greg’s ear, enjoying the shudder, “You cannot come, sweet boy, or you will be punished. Don’t think you can fool me, I will know. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” The Greg's voice was petulant.

Grissom merely squeezed the globes of Greg’s ass harshly, “Yes?” He lowered his voice warningly.

“Yes, master.” Greg whispered, his eyes dark with lust and need.

Grissom kissed him again, “Good boy, now take care of your own boy this evening, be observant and talk to him. I will come for you in the morning.”

He watched the dazed man retreat back into the room, closing the door quietly. As Grissom turned, he chuckled. Greg was such a natural switch; he still could not believe he never noticed it before.

*~*

Nick watched his master return. He had that odd dazed look that he got when dealing with Grissom. Greg shook himself as if to clear his head. His master smiled sheepishly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Grissom was a force of nature, Nick decided. And as much as that terrified him, he was curious as well. What would his master learn from the man?

“Okay, my own,” His master said briskly, startling him out of his reverie. Nick’s mouth twitched as he took in the man’s easy gait. Grissom must have given him permission about the unwanted additions. “We’ve have had plenty of rest, and we can have dinner anytime we want it. Answer me truthfully,” Brown eyes studied him closely, “Are you hungry or do you want to wait awhile.”

Nick appreciated his master’s efforts; he smiled shyly, “I’m fine master.” He was rewarded by his master’s beautiful smile in return.

“How about a movie, my own?” Nick nodded his head and followed his master’s lead as he was drawn up onto his feet, “I would like you to sit by me, my own, and I would like to hold you.”

His master’s voice was husky. Nick swallowed thickly, “Yes master, and if it pleases my master?”

Greg cupped his face and Nick leaned into the touch, “Yes, Nicky?”

“I think I would like it, too.” He whispered.

*~*

Grissom gently eased the gag from his girl’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, master,” She said quickly before burrowing into his chest.

He carded his fingers through her long soft locks, “Nothing to be sorry for, my love. Let me and my boy take care of you. You are mine, Catherine, nothing will ever change that.”

Billy, Grissom gave him a nod, moved up the bed and leaned on the head board. He helped his master position Catherine in his arms, so that she was open for their master and he was able to hold and comfort her.

Catherine was in tears when Grissom tasted her and held her hips. Billy whispered soothing words and kissed her temple.

Grissom pulled her up and had her straddle his hips, “There was never a choice, my love, no one can hurt you. I promise you that,” He helped her sink onto his cock. He moaned his appreciation, “Have I ever broken a promise?”

“No, master,” She whimpered.

“Ride me, my beautiful girl, take what you need.” He held her hips, curving his fingertips to and steady her as she began to move and leave his mark on her body as well. He gave Billy a warning glance and the boy quickly took his hand from his cock. “That’s right, I’ve got you,” He murmured over and over as her movements became erratic. As her body spasmed, Grissom took his own release in the rippling wet fist of flesh.

He settled them into a pile in the middle of the bed, Catherine in the middle, with her master and his boy surrounding her. He stroked her sweaty hair as she rested her forehead smooth and relaxed.

He reached out with his free hand. He lifted Billy's small one and kissed it. His boy smiled his sweet smile and closed his beautiful green eyes.

*~*

Billy’s eyes fluttered open at the feeling of weightlessness. He sighed and burrowed his face against his master’s warm skin. He felt the rumble of laughter and smiled sleepily.

“Did you think I would forget about you, little one?”

He looked up into his master’s piercing blue eyes and felt at peace. The past couple of days had been strange, hectic, and unnerving. His master normally did not have guests stay in his home nor have unwanted guests show up unannounced.

His belly growled and he turned bright red. Once Catherine had been able to fall asleep, he had curled against her and followed. His body was reminding him that it didn’t have its dinner. His master laughed again and dropped him to his feet in the large bathroom.

“Ten minutes, naked and kneeling.”

Billy pushed into the hand in his hair, “Yes, master.”

He didn’t need ten minutes, he had his routine down to four with two minutes to stretch and prepare his body. He appreciated the extra four as he settled into his posture and began to relax. Part of him hoped that his master did not need to hand out pain, but he would take it. Catherine really did not like it much as her vulnerable state of mind would make it impossible. Billy liked the pain especially the marks left behind. He refused to think about his former life where the pain had been unseen to the naked eye but scarred just as deep.

He was already fuzzy when his master positioned his hands at the small of his back and tightened the buttery soft leather cuffs. He sighed, they were his favorite. He rose to his feet automatically when his master stepped back. Gentle fingers traced over his neck around his collar, his shoulders, his chest, his arms, to his groin. His body was well trained and responded, proud and erect for his master.

Billy followed out onto the balcony in the cool morning air. He sucked in a breath and sought out his kneeling cushion but it was not there. His master normally did not have him kneel on concrete so he frowned. He snapped back into focus as his master seated himself. A warm hand to his hip stopped him from dropping to his knees.

“Straddle me, little one.”

He smiled shyly as he climbed into the comfort of his master’s embrace. The silk of his master’s sleep pants felt cool against his bottom even as the heat in the man’s groin signaled his arousal. Hands once again made circuits across his skin causing him to shiver.

“I am so proud of you,” his master said quietly and his cheeks flared. “So beautiful, so helpful, you take care of me, Billy, I could not ask for a better boy.”

He bit his lip nervously thinking at how the new master responded to his master’s touch. He sighed deeply as his master ran his fingers along his scalp.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Your boy, master?” He could hear the faint whine and winced.

The blue eyes made him feel exposed, his very being laid bare, “My boy,” his master said lowly, “My only boy, you and Catherine are all I will ever need. It makes you nervous to see Greg respond to me.”

He lowered his head in shame, “Yes, master.”

A firm hand tugged at his hair causing him to meet his master’s stare, “Greg is Nick’s master, little one. You need not concern yourself. When he leaves here, he will be a good master. I am only helping him with a need within himself. The need to let go, you understand that need.”

“Yes, master,” Billy hissed before his mouth was brutalized under his master’s possession. He moaned as his master freed his cock and levered Billy onto it.

“You are mine,” Grissom growled and pulled Billy down as he thrust up. Billy whined and held himself still. His master watched him for a long time, observing his battle against riding the flesh within his body.

A sweet strawberry was rubbed against his bottom lip, causing to him to blink in confusion. His master’s face had relaxed and was almost genial. Billy wanted to growl in frustration but knew better to push his boundaries.

“You were hungry, little one.” His master grinned, “Eat.”

The sweet berry exploded onto his tongue as his master slowly began moving his hips. Billy groaned in relief, but firm hands held him still as he started to rock in time with his master. He blinked again.

“Not yet, little one,” His master fed him a bite of muffin and slowly fucked his needy body. Billy felt somewhat relieved as he was given more to eat to distract from wanting to disobey and take his pleasure.

Then his master gripped his hips and kissed him deeply, “Now, little one, ride.”

He mewled. His master felt so good, deep in his body and his cock rubbing against warm skin. The man had settled back and watched him beneath heavy lids. Billy felt his body heat even more under the weight of the gaze. His restraints were freed and landed on the concrete with a low thud. His arms felt heavy at first but he could see the desire in his master's eyes.

He ran his hands over his stomach and then into his hair, arching his back. Grissom growled in approval. He smiled playfully and played with his nipples causing the buds to tighten even more. A pinch to his ass startled him and he lost his rhythm.

“Behave,” his master admonished with a quirk of his brow.

Billy lowered his eyes, “Yes master.”

“Such a pretty boy,” his master said cupping his ass and lifting him as Grissom stood. Billy gasped as gravity had his master pushing deeper inside of him. “Such a naughty boy as well, such a tease,” the brick bit into his naked back as he was pushed against the wall.

“Mine,” His master growled against his ear and began to fuck him hard.

“Yours, master.” Billy cried out as his cock was stroked in time with the punishing thrusts. He choked when his master pushed deep and went still. He met the bright blue eyes.

“Cum.”

Billy’s back bowed off the wall and sprayed his release against his master’s abdomen. He felt the brutal strokes that signaled that his master was finding his pleasure as well. Then he was lowered to the ground on shaky legs.

He knew his master was looking him over, making certain that he was okay in the aftermath of his release. He looked up imploringly taking in his master’s beloved face, “If it pleases my master?”

Grissom relaxed into a tender smile and his hand once again went to Billy’s hair. “Yes, little one.”

He knelt and Billy lapped away the traces of his release from his master’s skin. He reveled in the tightening of muscle and moans of pleasure. His head was lifted once again.

“I love you, Billy, don’t ever doubt that.” His master kissed him so very gently that Billy sighed happily, “You are my boy.”

“Yours, master.”

*~*

Nick grit his teeth as his master once again applied the ointment to his body. Where the process had been painful and embarrassing to begin with, his reaction was slowly changing. The long finger coated his insides and brushed against the spot that had his toes curling. His master’s warm breath ghosted over his naked back.

He bit back a moan as his cock responded becoming erect. His balls were tight and the heaviness in his groin begged for sexual release. He tried to argue against his body mentally that it was just the result of friction and stimulation. His body however told his mind to go to hell and enjoy. Enjoyment was such a foreign concept. He had been used so brutally.

Greg was not brutal, he was achingly gentle. His shy demeanor, honest caring, and gentle touches breached Nick’s defenses. He may never had desired a man in the past, but he craved his master. Nick was appalled, frightened, and frustrated.

His frustration mounted as the fingers left him strangely hollow and wanting. He blushed furiously when Greg turned him and came face to face with his erection. Just the sight of his master kneeling before him had Nick’s need for release burning in his gut and the tip of cock glistening traitorously.

Dark eyes looked up and he could see Greg’s surprise, lust, confusion, and hope. And another first for Nick since he signed away his life, he actually wanted.

“My own,” Greg said hoarsely as he licked his lips. Nick moaned as quietly as he could. “I can take care of that for you.” His warm breath caressed Nick’s needy flesh. “Answer me truthfully, Nicky. Do you want me to?”

Nick squeezed his eyes shut. Turmoil boiled. Masters could bring such pain and degradation. Could he trust that this man would not hurt him? Would not be overrun by lust and fuck him?

Nick's own basic needs won out in the end, fears be damned.

“P-p-please,” His voice died in his throat and his toes curled as his cock was surrounded by wet heat. He tensed as hands went to his hips. Nick relaxed when he realized his master was using him to steady himself. Surprise rocketed through him when gentle hands encouraged him to move and to thrust.

He could not hold back the need to thrust. His master’s moan of approval caused him to spill quickly and helplessly. It had been much too long. Fear caused his heart to stop.

He had cum.

In his master’s mouth.

Without permission.

He needed to kneel, beg for forgiveness. It was an accident and he did not want to be punished. Even as the blind panic ate at him, he heard his master chuckle quietly.

“Damn.”

Nick looked down and saw his master’s blush. The man had cum in his fist.

*~*

Mirror Part 1: Greg's POV

Greg wiped his hand against his leg and then reached out to steady Nick. He could see the fear and panic in the dark depths. He pushed himself to his feet albeit somewhat unsteady. Greg pulled Nick’s naked body into his arms and held him loosely. 

 

 

 

“Easy, my own, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Greg whispered against Nick’s soft dark hair. “If anything, you gave me a very precious gift.” He eased back to take in Nick’s expression. 

The fear had died down but was mixed with wary confusion and satiation. He pressed kissed the man’s wrinkled brow softly. Nick sighed quietly and leaned forward in his arms. Greg wanted to crow in delight, the man, his boy, the weight of him felt so good in his arms. 

A soft knock at the outer door startled them both. “Stay here, my own.” Greg commanded and cupped Nick’s elbow as he went to kneel. “On the bed, Nicky, I don’t want you kneeling if you don’t have to.” 

Greg found the sitting room of the suite deserted. The only thing that was different was two new fresh robes and a folded piece of parchment. He lifted the fabric as he opened the letter. 

~ Greg,

 

I will be expecting you and your slave at 8 am sharp in the atrium, dressed in your robes. Don’t be late.

 

~ Grissom

 

He glanced at the clock and dread pooled into his gut. It was 7:55 and he had no clue where the atrium was located. 

They were late, no question about it, Greg thought nervously. His hand tightened around Nick’s. The atrium could have been called a throne room. It was open and airy but Greg was focused on the man. 

Grissom sat in a high backed chair with Billy reclining at his feet in a similar pale blue robe. He curled on a large pillow with his head against Grissom’s leg. Catherine stood the man’s side in a matching robe. He felt Nick slow at the sight of her with a ball gag in her mouth. He turned automatically and pulled his boy into his arms. 

“Greg, have your boy kneel and come here.” 

Nick’s eyes were worried but not in a state of panic. Greg kissed his temple, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He looked around and saw a similar pillow to the one Billy curled on. He shot Grissom a questioning look and got a knowing smirk in return. So much for help, he thought grumpily. He settled Nick on the pillow. “Do you have a relaxed kneeling position?” He asked uncertainly. He did not know how long Grissom was going to have them and he didn’t want Nick to suffer unduly. 

He noticed Nick’s lips twitch before nodding. His boy sat on the pillow and curled his arms about his knees. Greg felt pride about to burst out of his chest. He stroked the silky dark hair and Nick looked up at him questioningly. 

“My boy,” Greg said firmly. 

“Yours, master.” Nick replied quietly. 

“Greg,” Grissom’s voice was low and dark.  He shuddered and turned towards the man. Grissom’s face was stern and Greg’s stomach sank. He had disobeyed and Grissom knew. “Come here.” 

He stood before the man on trembling legs once again. Grissom gave him a quick once over before turning to Catherine. “You may go, pretty girl. Phelps is waiting.” He pulled her forward and kissed her forehead. Greg could see the part in her robe that she was naked underneath. 

“Take off the robe, Greg.” 

He hesitated. He knew he had disobeyed but he did not belong to Grissom. He was not the slave. 

“Now or the ramifications will be worse.” 

His fingers trembled as he loosened the knot and let the robe fall. He could feel the blush crawl from his head to his toes. He couldn’t look up for fear of what Nick’s reaction would be. 

“Billy,” Grissom said quietly. 

“Yes master.” The boy rose gracefully. Greg wanted to protest as he watched the slender feet carry Billy next to his boy. 

“Nicky,” Grissom said gently. “You look like you are afraid. I will not harm your master. Greg, look at your boy.” 

Greg lifted his head. Nick’s face was pale. Billy had presented his slave with a selection of wrist restraints. He did not realize he was growling lowly. Grissom’s warm palm settled on the small of his back. 

“Easy sweet boy, this is a lesson for the both of you.” Grissom said quietly. “Nicky, Greg is a strong man and yet he disobeyed a direct order. In my house, it calls for discipline.” 

Nick whined quietly and Greg glared at Grissom ready to bolt. Yet he was stilled as Grissom's warm hand massaged his back and his ass. He bit his lip. He wanted, no, they needed Grissom’s training. It did not mean he had to like it. 

“With the slave traders, discipline meant pain, did it not, Nicky?” 

Nick’s dark eyes darted to his gaze. Greg tried to reassure his boy with his own eyes and nodded his head that it was okay. 

“Yes, sir,” Nick said hoarsely. 

“They made it hurt and punished you unduly, Nicky.” Grissom said calmly. “However you know through your training, that out in public, it is Greg’s right to show you discipline if you need it.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“It is your strength, Nicky, that gives Greg that kind of control. You are so very strong, and you will learn.” Grissom gave his slave a kind smile. “This is a chance to face a very real fear of yours without being harmed and show you the difference between discipline and punishment. You are going to feel the need to panic; will it help if you were restrained?” 

“Yes, sir,” Nick’s voice was barely audible. 

“Billy.” 

“Yes master,” the boy responded and Greg watched as the boy knelt and talked to Nick quietly. 

“Grissom,” Greg hated the whine in his voice, his fear of being naked long gone. 

The older man tugged on him until he stood between the spread thighs. He trembled when elegant fingers stroked his flaccid cock and sensitive balls.  

“I know what you need, sweet boy.” The hands massaged his ass and rubbed his trembling thighs. “Your father has never given you the attention you needed. You have been strong and stood on your own two feet. You never had to worry about the repercussions of disobeying.” Grissom squeezed Greg’s balls lightly causing him to squirm, "You did disobeyed me, sweet boy. No matter the situation and I don’t take that lightly.” 

He looked over Greg’s shoulder and nodded. 

Greg felt his body melt under the piercing blue eyes. He was positioned over the man’s lap, his cock between the man's thighs with his ass in the air. Warm hands rubbed over his skin from his nape to the top of his thighs. 

“Now, we begin." 

*~*

Mirror Part 2: Nick's POV

Nick’s mind was in a whirlwind. His time as a slave had not prepared him for a master like Greg Sanders. All of his shields that protected the core that was Nicholas Stoke the man, not the slave, were starting to crack. 

 

 

 

He had found pleasure in the act of having his master’s mouth, albeit a very male, mouth on his body. And he would be squirming at the thought of the long, elegant finger inside his body if his master had not returned to the bedroom with a pale dazed expression. In his hands were their familiar robes. 

“Come on, my own.” He could tell his master was in a hurry but again the hands were gentle as he was covered by his robe. Greg went to tie the knot at his hips when his knuckles brushed Nick’s cock. He dropped his hands to his sides and gave Nick that endearing shy smile, “Sorry. We need to hurry, my own.” 

So they were in a hurry, Nick thought grimly. They had been summoned by Master Grissom. 

He tried not to laugh as Greg hauled him through Grissom’s opulent home. He felt a little bit like a balloon bobbing behind a child. And even as he thought it, he fought to stay steady on his feet. Greg, just by being Greg, was reminding Nick of his life before his slavery. 

Only to be slapped in the face with it at the sight of the beautiful Catherine in a ball gag. He had to bite his tongue to keep from whining. Greg must of have sensed his panic because the now familiar arms gathered him close. 

Instead of being slapped down to the ground, he thought, taking in the comforting presence of his master. He looked to Catherine once more. The gag was not large and her features were smooth and peaceful, not pinched with fear. 

“Greg, have your boy kneel and come here.” 

Worried, fathomless dark eyes met his own. He felt a jump in his gut, knowing that their training was about to continue. Greg brushed his temple with a soft kiss that had him wanting to lean forward into the man’s arms. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Nick began to allow himself to believe. 

Not this quirky young man to whom he had known a few days time. A man who held his life in his hands, the man who had saved him was not going to allow him to be hurt unduly. 

His master never let him go as he looked around the room. Nick noticed Grissom’s barely concealed amusement. He started to breathe a little easier. His master positioned a thick pillow for him to kneel on. 

“Do you have a relaxed kneeling position?” Nick refocused in on his master’s face and felt his mouth curve upward as he nodded.  If he were free, he would tell Greg that he was just too damn adorable. He could not, he was a slave. He felt fingers in his hair. Looking up, he thought he might have missed something. Greg was playing havoc with his normal survival skills. 

“My boy,” Greg said firmly. 

“Yours, master.” Nick replied quietly. He really was, he thought. Not property to be beaten down and kicked. His heart clenched, but his master’s boy to be protected.  

“Greg,” Grissom’s voice was low and dark. Nick had to keep from cringing. Something was going on here, he thought, watching his master pale and shiver slightly. His master actually blanched when the older man said, “Come here.” 

Nick was not sure what was going on. Except all the talk about training, he was a trained slave.  _And an abused one_ , his inner voice argued. Not all masters were abusive, he had seen it, even seen the ones who were taken well care of, before Catherine and Billy, but there had been the well cared slaves who were vicious as well. 

He felt like a bug on the wall, a mere observer to an unwritten play. His master was trembling, but not angry or frightened, more unnerved. Grissom gave him a look that could only be described as hungry in Nick’s opinion. What the…his mind argued. It wasn’t his master’s place to be treated this way. He was a  _master,_  Nick was the slave. He almost whined out loud. It was his place to serve. The whole atmosphere was making him nervous. 

“You may go, pretty girl. Phelps is waiting.” And here was the curiousness that made up Master Grissom to Nick. He seemed to genuinely care for his slaves. Catherine passed him as she left the atrium and winked at him. Flirting like her mouth was not filled with a gag at all. Huh? 

“Take off the robe, Greg.” His attention snapped back to the older man at the low command. 

“Now or the ramifications will be worse,” made Nick cringe and want to put his forehead to the floor, but the command wasn’t for him. He could see his master’s hesitation under Grissom’s gaze. 

He sucked in a breath as Greg’s body was bared for all to see, just as if he were a slave himself. And a final thought hammered home, he wanted his master. Physically, mentally, and emotionally wanted his master, his groin was tingling. Greg was a beautiful man. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, rounded ass, slender thighs, Nick’s mouth went dry. Even the strange scarring across his neck and upper back did not detract from his beauty. His very masculine beauty, Nick thought, his face heating. His master’s cock could be described as average, but Nick knew it would be in his body. The thought did not make him sick with fear. His ass had been regularly abused.  However, with all this strangeness of being the slave of Greg Sanders, he almost longed for it. To be claimed by his master in plain sight. 

The slave traders had delighted in raping him publicly, leading him stumbling by his leash with cum and blood dripping down his thighs. But Greg, he looked up his blushing master. Greg was not like that at all. 

“Billy,” Grissom said quietly. 

“Yes, master.” The boy rose gracefully. Nick tore his eyes away from his master, cursing his stupidity. He had to be on his toes, to protect himself from what ever could come at him unawares. 

“Nicky,” Grissom said gently. “You look like you are afraid. I will not harm your master. Greg, look at your boy.” 

Nick felt sick and aroused at the same time. He was faintly aware that Grissom was still talking. Billy had presented him with a selection of wrist restraints. Not vicious metal ones that would bite and tear at his flesh, but soft supple leather ones. 

In his mind’s eye, he remembered a dark haired associate of his former master.  

_“I know you are afraid and fear can make you do stupid things. If I could rescue you from that dumb ass, I would, but I can’t. Let me take care of you and show you that it doesn’t have to hurt.”_  

_Nick watched the elegant dark haired man wrap buttery soft cuffs around his wrists and bound him to the head board. It wasn’t uncomfortable but gave him very little room to thrash about._  

_“Doing okay, beautiful?” The dark haired man, who was older than him, smiled gently as he repeated the process on his ankles. Nick tested his bonds and found that he could barely move. The gentle, elegant long fingers brushed over his body._  

_“I know you won’t understand and maybe you never will, but some of things can actually help you.” His naked form stretched out over Nick’s body. His hands ran up the length of Nick’s arms and covered the cuffs with his hands._  

_“Let being bound help you to feel safe, know that you cannot get away. It will free your mind to float away even as horrors are done to your body. You can survive them.”_  

 The sound of his master’s growl drew him back to the present. He stared down at the open box and then he heard Grissom speak. 

“Easy sweet boy, this is a lesson for the both of you.” Grissom said quietly. “Nicky, Greg is a strong man and yet he disobeyed a direct order. In my house, it calls for discipline.” 

Nick whined quietly and looked desperately at his master. His unease with his nakedness was gone as the younger man glared at Grissom ready to bolt. The older master seemed to reassure his own master by massaging his back and his ass. Nick watched as Greg bit his lip uncertainly. 

“With the slave traders, discipline meant pain, did it not, Nicky?” 

Nick’s dark eyes darted to Greg’s. His heart was thundering in his chest as his master nodded to him. His master’s expressive dark eyes were worried. 

“Yes, sir,” Nick said hoarsely. 

“They made it hurt and punished you unduly, Nicky.” Grissom said calmly. “However you know through your training, that out in public, it is Greg’s right to show you discipline if you need it.” 

 

 

 

He lowered his head. Punishment meant pain, whips, canes, raped, blacking out for hours, “Yes, sir.” 

“It is your strength, Nicky, that gives Greg that kind of control. You are so very strong, and you will learn.” Grissom smiled at him. “This is a chance to face a very real fear without being harmed and show you the difference between discipline and punishment. But you are going to feel the need to panic; will it help if you were restrained?” 

  
_Fear makes you stupid, beautiful._  “Yes, sir,” Nick’s voice was barely audible. 

“Billy.” 

“Yes master,” the boy responded. “I know you are afraid,” the kid said quietly. “But my master won’t touch you. It is not his right. You belong to your master, have faith in that.” He pointed to the restraints, “Each of these are made of different materials, my master wants you to touch each one. Set aside the ones that you do not like for any reason.” 

Nick looked up in to Billy’s eyes. They were serene and gentle. Open and guileless, not calculating and smug. His fingers trembled as he slowly made his way through the box. He did not think just went with his gut. If his gut turned, he set them aside. And then he felt it, the same soft buttery leather. He looked up at Billy in shock. 

The boy just smiled, “I take it you like those.” Nick nodded dumbly. “I do, too. I’m going to put these on you, okay?”  

Nick closed his eyes and nodded. Billy’s hands were warm and gentle. He was surprised when the boy settled behind him and wrapped his arms about his waist. Nick instantly went taut with fear. 

“Easy, Nick. I’m not going to hurt you.” Billy’s breath was warm against his ear. “I know you have no reason to trust that, but I won’t. Things are going to get a little intense and I thought you might like to lean on me.” 

Nick looked over his shoulder at the boy once again. So honest, so young, he thought uneasily, how did he get to be a slave? He looked back to his master and saw Grissom talking to him in a low rumble. The older man’s hands were on his master’s body. 

He licked his dry lips and nodded slowly, “Please.” Billy’s arms tightened and encouraged him to lean back. 

“I hope that you will find it is okay to have a friend.” Billy said against his ear and then fell quiet. 

Greg’s voice was loud in the quiet room, “Grissom,” Nick’s nape prickled at the whine in his master’s voice. He watched as his master was positioned between Grissom’s thighs. He trembled because he could not hear what was going on, was this some big joke; were they in danger? 

Billy just made soothing noises in his ear and rubbed his chest. Greg was squirming now and Nick whined. “This is just a part of your master’s training, Nick. My master won’t hurt him.” 

Grissom looked over Greg’s shoulder and nodded. Nick felt Billy’s answering nod. 

Nick strained against Billy’s arms and his restraints as Greg was positioned over Grissom’s lap. No, no, no, his mind cried. Not his master, his whine got louder. Billy’s arms tightened. 

“Just watch, Nick.” 

He refocused on his master’s face instead of the vulnerable ass in the air. Greg’s face was relaxed almost dreamy. He did not squirm or try to fight to get away. His body was pliant as Grissom rubbed him from nape to thigh. 

“Now, we begin.”

*~*

Mirror Part 3: Grissom's POV

Billy smiled at him, his beautiful eyes sleepy and sated. Grissom carded his hair as he turned to his girl. Catherine watched him, her eyes no longer shadowed. She made his heart leap into his throat as she had the first time he had seen her dance.

He had many interests but she was still his obsession just as his boy was his passion. He watched her stretch her lean body before sitting up. She never said a word but reached for her gag and slipped from the bed. She knelt before him offering the gag wordlessly.

"I can revoke the punishment, my girl." She just shook her head and placed her forehead at his feet. He watched as she knelt up once again. Cupping her chin, he studied her smooth, peaceful features. Before he gagged her, he kissed her deeply. He helped her to stand even though she did not need it.

"Take your shower, my girl. Take as long as you need." Her eyes smiled at him and she turned away. He watched her touch Billy's face as she passed him.

His boy, Billy came back to his side to kneel. Grissom's eyes narrowed. He had not seen the barely noticeable limp in ages. It wasn't the 'my ass has been rode hard' limp. But the limp that brought back black memories.

Catherine had been his for five years before that fateful day. He had gone out in public with her and spoiled her rotten. She satisfied his every need. If only the slave laws would allow her freedom, he would marry her.

The slave laws were black and white on the issue of freedom, once enslaved the only reprieve was death. He still could not believe how cold hearted humanity became centuries before his birth.

The people in their infinite wisdom toppled the standing government of corrupt politicians speaking for the people. Being capitalist in nature, they turned to business leaders. What evolved was a corporate consortium that slowly changed the face of a nation from free citizenship to corporate rule on the backs of human commodity. The laws favored business and the business owners. The entrepreneurs of the past became the monarchies of the future.

He should count himself lucky; his family had owned a small business that had been passed on to him as sole heir. He was able to parlay that into a corporate infrastructure with his scientific discoveries. According to the corporate nation he was almost untouchable as was his young friend, Greg.

But ones like Catherine, Billy, and Nick; they suffered the brunt of cold hearted view of humanity. Catherine and Nick had sold themselves out of desperation. Billy had been sold by his parents.

Pulling his boy into his lap once again, he buried his nose into the soft hair. Closing his eyes he saw Billy as he had the very first day.

He remembered pulling up short at the slave auction at the market. Not unheard of and he usually ignored them. But the crowd seemed unnaturally vociferous for the particular slave on the block. He stood at the back of the crowd and his heart leapt into his throat.

It was mere child, was his first thought. The boy looked out at the crowd with dull eyes. His mouth was spread open obscenely by a bit. But it was the way he held his arm to his side and held his weight on one foot that had Grissom pushing through the crowd.

With all the bodily damage, it was the brothel owners that were howling for blood. He walked up to the platform and the boy's eyes had flickered onto his own. He outbid everyone and carried the broken child in his arms to his car. Phelps was hot on his heels with the boy's records clutched in his hands.

He would find out that Billy was a lot older than he originally thought. He held a bedside vigil when he went into a shock and fever. They had to reset his arm and his leg. He had read the detailed doctor's notes after Billy had been examined. Something inside of him snapped. He growled at anyone that tried to get close to the boy. He was his now and no one would take him away.

Catherine was the only one that attempted and succeeded. She had said, "Who have we here? He's beautiful, master. Is he ours?"

Ours, he thought with a smile now as stroked Billy's back. She had loved him from the beginning as well. His boy had blossomed under his care. Only when he was overly taxed did the limp from the early days make an appearance. He loved them both so much. In the constructs of society in which they had to survive, he would protect them until the last breath was in his body. He had the knowledge on the how to pass on to his young friend.

He heard the shower stop and a few minutes later his beautiful girl joined them. "Robes for today," He said quietly, "My girl, I plan on working with Greg and his boy this morning would you like to work in the gardens with Phelps?"

She nodded her head briskly.

He then turned his gaze onto his boy. "You are limping." Billy froze under his hand. "We had an agreement."

Billy's chin dropped to his chest. "I didn't even realize, master." His voice was quiet and young, Grissom thought. His green eyes were guileless when he looked up finally, "More a bodily memory, master."

Grissom studied him before pulling him into his arms. "Do you want a day away from this madness, little one? I would like your help, but if it is getting to be too much without you even realizing…" But Billy shook his head vehemently.

"I want to help, master." Grissom's brow rose slightly at the hint of possessiveness in his boy's tone. Billy flushed and looked away quickly.

"Why, little one? I thought we had resolved this."

Billy bit his lip, "It is partly the same, master."

Grissom lifted his chin, "Little one, for those who are dominant in nature, submission is a beautiful, heady act. Greg's submission is like a fine wine. I want to savor it along with teaching him valuable information that will make him a good master for his boy. I care for him deeply but I do not love him. With his submission, my master's heart would love to own him." Billy tensed. "My heart belongs to you and my girl and that's all the room it has. If I need to mark you deep for you to understand I will." Billy blushed and squirmed, "That is not all this is, is it?"

"He's been hurt, master," Billy replied quickly. Ah, Grissom thought with satisfaction, now we are getting somewhere. "I do not pretend to know what you have in mind, master, but it could scare him, hurt him emotionally."

"Nicky?"

Billy nodded.

"And that is why you want to help; you know what it is like to be scared." Once again Billy nodded and Grissom's heart swelled with pride. "But after this session, you are getting a soak and a rest, no sass." Billy peered at him under his lashes and Grissom could see the twinkle in the green depths. "And if you keep that up, you'll be resting on your stomach." Billy squirmed and Grissom chuckled. He pushed the boy onto his feet. "Get dressed and get the box of restraints." Billy nodded once again and turned. He reached out and grabbed the slender hand. Billy stopped. Grissom pressed a soft kiss against his palm. "Add anything you think would be appropriate."

That's my boy, he thought with pride as Billy added his favorite set of leather cuffs.

*~*

He knew he could be described as evil. Grissom sat on his chair with an inward smirk. Greg had disobeyed him. And what a lovely scene of disobedience it was. He had watched the two men from the doorway before setting the bundle on the chair. They just needed a few more lessons and they would be ready to face the world.

Greg had found a diamond in the rough with Nick. He looked to Catherine first, her robe matching his perfectly and then to Billy at his feet. The boy's robe had a hint of green for his gorgeous eyes. He thought of his own choices for Greg and Nick. Nick needed the reassurance of Greg's color on him. The same red of his standard slave ware. But Greg, with those soulful brown eyes and wild hair, the brown had been a good choice as well.

He heard the quick footsteps. Touching Billy's hair, green eyes met his own, "You know what to do?"

"Yes, master."

Grissom had to bite the inside of his cheek. What a vision the two of them made, he thought. Greg looked flustered and Nick's normal solemn expression had softened into amusement and affection. He wanted to nod in approval; they had come so far in such a short time. Nick's expression changed at seeing his girl gagged. He became worried and more observant.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and made sure he was in his dominant state of mind. Then he said lowly, "Greg, have your boy kneel and come here."

And there was Greg's instinct, he thought with satisfaction. He watched the younger man pull a worried Nick into his arms and kiss him lightly. The fact that Nick did not flinch but seemed to find strength in those arms was telling.

He heard Greg's quiet reassurance, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." His humor got the best of him when he saw Greg's eyes dart around his atrium. At the questioning look, he just smirked at the boy. Greg would not have a crutch once he left his home. He needed to let his dominant personality that simmered under the surface come to the fore. Again he felt pride as Greg located Nick a cushion and then assured himself of Nick's comfort.

Even a battered boy recognized the sweetness in Greg Sanders. He watched as Nick gave him a small smile. The haunted brown eyes were gone and held the glow of affection for his master. He leaned into his master's touch. The quiet exchange of "mine and yours," pleased Grissom as well.

Time to move this forward, "Greg," He pitched voice low and dark. And Greg reacted beautifully. The slender frame shuddered and turned towards him automatically. Greg was really testing his control, he thought as he kept his countenance stern. The younger man's face held a resignation and understanding. He had disobeyed and he knew that Grissom was well aware. "Come here."

Grissom gave him a quick once over before turning to Catherine. "You may go, pretty girl. Phelps is waiting." He pulled her forward and kissed her forehead.

"Take off the robe, Greg." He watched Greg hesitate. Hesitation on either of their parts could prove deadly, especially from Greg's ass of a father. "Now or the ramifications will be worse."

The younger man's fingers trembled as he loosened the knot and let the robe fall. God, what a beautiful man, Grissom thought with approval, as he took in the blushing face and trembling body.

He looked to his boy, "Billy," Grissom said quietly.

"Yes master." His boy responded. His graceful stride did not show his earlier limp. He stored that piece of information to discuss later. He did not want his boy pushing passed his endurance.

The dark haired slave was watching, his sense of survival being challenged. His trust in his master was so very new and he had no reason to trust Grissom. "Nicky," Grissom said gently. "You look like you are afraid. I will not harm your master. Greg, look at your boy."

Grissom focused on Greg, hearing his growl. Training wasn't always meant to be comfortable. He touched the man's lower back, savoring the silky smooth, warm skin. "Easy sweet boy, this is a lesson for the both of you." Grissom said quietly. "Nicky, Greg is a strong man and yet he disobeyed a direct order. In my house, it calls for discipline."

He kept up the gentle massage to the younger man's back and his ass even as Greg went pale and Nick's nervous whine pricked his heart. Nick was just as damaged as his boy had been. He watched as Greg took a deep breath and girded his determination. Good boy, he thought.

He turned his attention back to the broken slave, "With the slave traders, discipline meant pain, did it not, Nicky?" The fearful dark eyes went to Greg for approval.

"Yes, sir," Nick said hoarsely.

"They made it hurt and they punished you unduly, Nicky." Grissom said calmly. “However you know through your training, that out in public, it is Greg’s right to show you discipline if you need it.” 

 

 

 

“Yes, sir.” 

“It is your strength, Nicky, that gives Greg that kind of control. You are so very strong, and you will learn.” Grissom gave his slave a kind smile. “This is a chance to face a very real fear of yours without being harmed and show you the difference between discipline and punishment. You are going to feel the need to panic; will it help if you were restrained?” 

"Yes, sir."

"It is your strength, Nicky, that gives Greg that kind of control. You are so very strong, and you will learn." Grissom gave the older slave a kind smile. "This is a chance to face a very real fear without being harmed and show you the difference between discipline and punishment. But you are going to feel the need to panic; will it help if you were restrained?"

"Yes, sir," Nick's voice was barely audible.

"Billy."

"Yes master," the boy responded and followed his master's orders flawlessly.

"Grissom," he had to fight the shiver at the submissive whine in Greg's voice. He tugged on him until Greg stood between his spread thighs. He reveled in the shivering body as he touched the flaccid cock and tender ball sac.

"I know what you need, sweet boy." Oh what a lovely boy, he thought again as he sought to soothe by massaging the rounded ass and rubbed his trembling thighs. "Your father has never given you the attention you needed. You have been strong and stood on your own two feet." Greg's eyes fell to half mast, "You never had to worry about the repercussions of disobeying."

Grissom squeezed Greg's balls lightly causing him to squirm, "But you disobeyed me, sweet boy. No matter the situation and I don't take that lightly."

He met his boy's gaze. Billy was wrapped around Nick giving him the comfort he was going to need as he proceeded. Billy nodded once and Grissom nodded in return.

He gave Greg the penetrating stare that he used on both his boy and his girl. He felt the headiness as the tension in Greg's body melted. The younger man did not resist or argue as he was positioned over Grissom's lap with his ass in the air. He knew his expression was hungry as he rubbed over Greg's skin from his nape to the top of his thighs.

"Now, we begin."

*~*

The first slap of flesh against flesh had Nick fighting his restraints and the arms that held him.  _No, no, no_ , his mind chanted. 

"Nick," Billy said quietly.  "Look at your master." 

At the word, master, he went still.  He keened loudly at the second crack.  Nick did not look at the older man whose hand came down again, but to Greg,  _his_  master. 

And he went still. 

His head cocked to the side, curiosity overrode his continuous fear..

His master did not flinch at the blows landing on his bottom.  Nick looked quickly and was greeted with the sight of Grissom using his open palm on his master.  He became absorbed in the details, forcing his need for flight into the comfort of his leather restraints.

 _Fear makes you stupid, beautiful._   He took comfort in the restraints to focus in on what was actually happening, relying on his now unused training as an observer.

Greg's face was serene and unfocussed.  His body however seemed to be reacting to the stimuli.  His hips began rocking towards the blows as opposed to flinching away from the pain.  And, his heart took a painful thump, he could see his master's cock, aroused and hard, rubbing against Master Grissom's leg. 

His master was enjoying this, this, his mind could not even come up with the correct term. 

Billy loosened his hold, "I know you don't understand," Nick bit his lip, how could the younger slave read his reaction so well?  "I didn't either, at first.  We've both known pain for the sake of pain."

Nicky relaxed into the cradling arms and kept his attention his master's face. Tearing his gaze away from Greg, he turned to the boy, "But wh-wh-what about..." His face felt hot and he felt like his skin was too tight.  The blows kept raining and his master began to groan.

Billy touched Nick's face with a cool palm, "Sex?" Nick blanched but nodded his head. The smile on the boy's face was gentle, "Look back at your master."

Greg's full lips were parted even as his eyes were screwed shut.  It wasn't pain or fear but something else.  Nick was so attuned that the first quiet "please" was akin to a bomb going off.  He jolted in Billy's arms. 

Grissom was focused as well.  His hand went still and rested on the fiery red curve of Greg's buttocks.  Greg whined sending shivers through Nick.  It was a whine of needy desperation.

"Talk to me, sweet boy." Grissom said lowly, voice like liquid heat. Greg just whined again and squirmed between the palm on his ass and the legs beneath his hips.  "You want it, don't you?"

Nick saw the minute movement of one thigh and Greg shuddered at the friction against his cock.  "You want to beg for release, knowing that it is no longer your own, but mine.  You want to please me."  Another violent shudder wracked Greg's slender frame and he nodded.  Nick's gut spasmed.  His master's body was as tight as bowstring.

Grissom slid a hand under Greg's body.  Nick felt at odds and he ground his teeth.  Grissom was touching his master, giving him pleasure, and had the power to grant the release Greg so desperately wanted.  Nick wanted to growl.

He wanted to damn the consequences and snarl, “Mine!”

He didn't realize he was surging forward in Billy's arms until the boy pulled him back. 

"No," Greg's cry was loud and mournful.  Nick's eyes snapped back to his master.  He watched as Grissom help to steady Greg on trembling legs.  The cock ring was bright in the sunlight.

"Discipline, sweet boy, is a bitch." Grissom said with a gentle smirk.  "You want to submit to me, you want to fall so deep that you fly, you will have to obey.  You disobeyed, you face the consequences."

The elegant finger trailed over the angry erection that stood between Greg's thighs.  Greg moaned and bucked his hips.  Grissom added his tightened fist to that of the cock ring.  "This doesn't come off until I say and even then release will be denied.  You will cum for me, do you understand?

Greg's head dropped and his shoulders slumped, his voice was thick and hazy, "Yes master." 

"You see," Billy said against Nick's ear, "Discipline does not have to be agony; punishment does not have to be pain."  Billy turned Nick's face to his own and placed a gentle kiss against the dry lips.  Nick's eyes went wide but Billy just smiled, "Release isn't always about sex.  And sex doesn't mean degradation."

A warm hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up, Greg's expression held such yearning that warmed Nick from the inside out.  He felt the restraints loosen and fall way.  He stood before his master and Greg all but collapsed in his arms. 

Looking over the naked shoulder, Nick realized that he was under Grissom's laser like gaze. The older master only gave Nick a gentle smile as he pulled Greg closer.

Going on instinct, his pressed his lips against Greg's sweaty temple.  He was beginning to realize that he liked his master in his arms.  His eyes widened in shock. He did not realize that the possessiveness went both ways. The words meant so much more than the automatic response.

 "My master."

*~*

Greg’s legs still felt wobbly as Nick led him, aimlessly. He leaned against the bony, too thin shoulder. “Outside,” He rasped out and then cleared his throat. “Let’s go outside, Griss has a pool. Cool water against my ass might do me some good.” 

 

 

 

He felt Nick tense and the hand about his waist tightened. Shit, he thought, Grissom had forced him into a corner with that little display. He had his own emotions to deal with and that of his slave’s as well. 

When they stopped at the water’s edge, the cool breeze frisky about their bare legs, Nick shifted his weight nervously. Greg eased away to take in the man’s expression. He wanted to feed his boy and make him feel safe, but how to do that, he wasn’t so sure. 

Nick licked his lower lip, “M-master?” 

Greg shook his head as if to clear it from his troubled thoughts, “Speak freely, my own.” 

A faint blush graced Nick’s cheeks, “We don’t have swim suits, master.” 

That was his boy; Greg wanted to smile, so very practical, taking in the details. Taking care of me, his heart pounded. “Well, I don’t want to force myself into a suit at the moment,” He replied with a grimace, covering his straining flesh with both of his hands. It had the desired effect, the corners of Nick’s mouth twitched. “Do you swim my own?” He stepped in the water, hissing as the cool water bubbled around his ankles. He knew Nick was watching him. He sucked in a breath and sank below the surface, wanting to take the temperature change quickly. He came back up and slung the water from his eyes. 

“I, uh, well,” Nick stammered. “I swam in my old life, master.” 

Greg breathed a sigh of relief as his erection wilted and with it the nagging bite of the cock ring. “I would like for you to join me, Nicky, but it is up to you. Don’t give me ‘a slave doesn’t have a choice’ spiel either. You are mine and I’m giving you a choice. The water is nice and we need to talk. It is your choice either in the water with me or sitting on the side with your legs in the water.” 

He watched a pensive look flit across Nick’s features. “May I start out with my legs in the water and join you after awhile?” 

Greg nodded with a smile and pushed off to swim to the end of the pool and back. The cool water worked out both the heat and the ache in his ass. When he came back to the shallow end, Nick’s robe was open and he was kicking his legs back and forth in the water.  He walked to his slave’s side and propped his elbow on the ledge. 

“Penny for your thoughts, my own?” 

Nick started, “Are you okay, master” 

Greg bit the inside of his cheek, he wanted to smile. He reveled in the obvious affection and concern that Nick had began to show him comfortably, his frightened shield cracking. “You mean my ass or the experience in general?” 

“Both,” Nick said quickly. He started to speak again but bit his lip and looked down. 

Greg reached out and squeezed Nick’s thigh. He counted it a victory when his boy neither startled nor tensed up. “Speak freely, my own.” 

Nick regarded him for a moment before slipping off the red robe and sliding into the water. It surprised Greg, once again hurting for the too thin body that was bruised and battered. “Why did you allow Master Grissom do that to you, master?” 

Greg gathered Nick into his arms and pulled him close. “M-m-master?” 

“Shhhh,” Greg muttered, pressing a swift kiss to Nick’s temple, “I just need to hold onto you.” Nick sighed and his body relaxed his back against Greg’s chest. “As far as the spanking goes physically, Grissom didn’t hurt me, my own. I’m a bit sore but that’s all.” 

Nick squirmed in his arms, “But why? You aren’t a slave, Master Grissom doesn’t own you, he shouldn’t have the power to do that to you, master.” 

Greg wanted to look his boy in the eye. He place a hand against the slave’s protruding hip bone, fighting the need to snatch his hand away when Nick went rigid. “Easy, my own, not going to do anything to you, just want to you to look at me,” Nick’s eyes were wide with confusion. “I don’t know how to explain it, my own. Grissom seems to understand a very basic need that I didn’t realize I even had. And come to think of it, in light of what has happened to you, would seem really silly.” 

A cool hand cupped his face, surprising Greg. “Not silly, master,” Nick replied solemnly. “Want to know about you, too, want to be able to serve you.” 

He pulled Nick closer, wrapping his arms about the thin hips, once again relieved that the cool water was keeping his frisky cock under control. “I don’t have the best relationship with my father, my own. You know how corporation structure works?” Nick nodded, “He considers me a disappointment and a failure. Most of our interactions are hardly ever civil and has been that way since I was a kid. Grissom, well,” Greg sighed. “Grissom seems to understand that I need to be dominated, it settles a part of me that has never received that kind of attention.” 

Nick frowned and looked over his shoulder. Greg cupped his chin and tugged it gently. “Talk to me, my own. This communication thing is working for us.” 

“Will you sell me because I can’t satisfy all of your needs?” 

Greg considered him for a long time. He slipped his hands beneath the water and cupped Nick’s ass, even as the slave went rigid. He moved until their groins were pressed together. “You are everything I want and will ever need, Nicky. This thing with Grissom, I’m not really sure what it even is. Maybe it is just helping to train me to be better master for you. You know that I will have to discipline you if the need arises.” Nick’s head dropped but Greg just hugged him even closer. “I will never terrorize you, Nicky and you’ll always understand why.” 

He tipped Nick’s head up, “That was part of what today was for me. Grissom gave me an order and I disregarded it. When I attempt to ignore him again, let’s just say my ass will remind me.” Greg felt like he was taking a plunge without a net. He tipped forward and placed a gentle kiss against Nick’s lips. “We will work out what works best between the two of us, my own, and everyone else can go to hell. You are mine and no one will dictate my actions when it comes to you.” 

Nick studied him for a long time, the dark depths hard to discern. His arms came up slowly and went around Greg’s waist. He rested his head against Greg’s shoulder, “Yours, master. I’m yours.” 

Greg smiled and whispered quietly, “And I’m yours.”

*~*

Grissom held Billy in his lap. “You were perfect, little one.” 

Billy smiled and trailed his fingers across his master’s chest, “Thank you, master.” 

“What would you like as a reward?” 

The boy sat up in his master’s lap. He worried his bottom lip as he considered. His master spoiled both he and Catherine horribly. He had everything he could possibly want and then some. To be asked was a rare treat. “May I, master?” 

His master carded his hair before pulling him into a soft kiss, “Of course, little one.” 

He smiled and scampered to the playroom. Making his selection, he hurried back and knelt at his master’s feet. Grissom laughed. 

“I should have known. It is your favorite.” The man took the proffered flogger. He then trailed the soft suede tails against Billy’s face. “Go get yourself ready, little one.” 

Billy shivered and pressed his forehead between his master’s feet.

*~*

Nick helped settle Greg on a lounger, his naked back and ass exposed. “Master?” 

Greg opened one eye, “What is it, my own?” 

Nick smiled hesitantly, “Your back, master, you don’t want to get sunburned.” He felt so much more at ease after talking with Greg. It made his heart light when his master laughed out loud. 

“No, my poor ass can’t take anymore abuse, that’s for sure. Do you think you will be okay if you went to find some sunscreen?” Greg’s expression turned serious. 

“Yes, master.” Nick had to fight down the tornado of butterflies. He could do this; he could take care of his master. 

“Just find Phelps, my own.” Greg said and laid his head back on his arms, his dark eyes shutting. 

Nick pulled on his robe and retraced his steps into the majestic home. He heard swells of classical music and his curiosity got the better of him. Maybe it was his master’s influence, but he felt safe enough to know that even if he made a misstep, he wouldn’t be harmed. 

He peered into an open doorway where the music filtered from and froze. He was surprised to feel his cock rising at the tableau before him. 

Billy was suspended with his arms above his head. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth open as he moaned. Grissom circled him, stripped down to his soft silk pants. 

Nick had been flogged. The ends had been hard and cut into his flesh every time he was struck. This was different. Like everything since his master had purchased him.  Grissom trailed the soft looking ends over Billy’s body before stepping back and landing a couple of throws to the young boy’s back. Billy would shiver, alternating between thrusting his hips back and then forward. 

He watched and it seemed to go on for hours. No rhyme or reason to Grissom’s pattern, until Billy cried out, “Master, please!” 

Then the older man stepped back and began to land blows evenly placed across the stretched back. The sound of the dull thuds made his cock throb. He was shocked when Billy went lax, twitching with each blow. His eyes were at half mast, his face relaxed. Grissom let the flogger drop to his side as he stepped up behind Billy once again. He trailed the ends over Billy’s dripping cock. When the older man grasped the flesh, Billy’s body went tight as a bow string, coming in a torrent. 

Grissom gently freed the outstretched arms, muttering, “I’ve got you, little one. My boy, my precious boy.” 

A soft hand on Nick’s shoulder had him nearly jumping out of his skin. He whipped around and came face to face with Catherine, still gagged with an eyebrow raised in question.

*~*

Greg sat up. He was beginning to worry. The task he had given Nick was simple. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to return. He peered up at the sun and decided to move into the shaded area. 

 He would give his boy five minutes more and then he was going to look for him. He sighed, was he doing right? Nick had progressed so far in just a couple of days from stark terror to glimpses of humor. He had even felt comfortable enough to question the whole interlude with Grissom. 

 

 

 

He moaned as his cock rose at the memory of having his ass literally handed to him. He glared down at his traitorous flesh as the cock ring began to bite. Yeah, Grissom was sneaky in his punishments but appropriate as well. The older man inherently knew that a spanking and being cock bound was the way to deal with his misfortunate rebellion. He leaned back on his arms. He would have to work with Grissom after this training solitude was over. Would he be able to look the man in the eye having cum on command and being spanked until his ass ached? That was something to think about. 

But later, he needed to find Nick, now. 

The sound of bare feet slapping against concrete had him turning. His jaw dropped. Nick was white as a sheet with a tube of sunscreen gripped in his hand as if life depended on it. Greg winced at the sight of the tense, battered body. Concern pooled in his gut when his boy all but fell to the coarse concrete at his feet and pressed his forehead not to the ground but to the top of Greg’s foot. 

“My own?” Greg sensed he should tread very lightly. Nick was trembling and flinching, reminding him of a horse’s coat when a fly buzzed too near. 

“Please, master,” Nick choked out, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, please, please, m-m-master…” 

Greg cupped Nick’s chin and lifted it slowly, “Talk to me my own, whatever it is, talk to me.” 

Nick’s lips trembled, “Punish me, master, just d-d-don’t s-s-sell m-m-me.” 

Greg had to fight the automatic frown. He kept the gentle pressure on Nick’s chin until the slave was kneeling between his thighs.  

Grissom cleared his throat causing them both to jump. “Is everything okay, Greg?” 

Nick almost spasmed in fear, Greg’s arms went about the shaking shoulders and pulled him close. The slave was chanting, “no, no, no,” so quietly that Greg had to strain to hear it. 

“Give us a moment, Grissom.” Greg called out firmly, his hands rubbing Nick’s back slowly. He had a feeling the older man knew what was going on and was giving him a lifeline if he needed help. But Nick was his, he thought possessively. 

Grissom nodded and faded back into his home. 

“What happened, my own?” Greg maneuvered the trembling man onto the lounger beside him. He wasn’t going to have Nick’s bare knees shredded by the concrete. He could still see the abject fear; Nick’s large brown eyes were all but rolling.  

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the slave’s robes off his shoulders and pressed against him. Pressing their flesh together and holding him close. Greg wanted to moan, Nick felt so good. His boy, his very own, but the bite the cock ring quickly halted his ardor. Now was not the time for lust. He hoped that his scent and his skin would soothe Nick and ease him out of his terror. 

He kept it up as the tremors began to slow and the breathing became more even. Nick drew a deep breath through his nose. He felt Nick give a full body shudder before the slave turned his head into his neck. He felt the warm breath against his collarbone. 

“Tell me what happened,” He kept his arms around Nick’s thin shoulders and his tone firm. 

“I went to look for the servant, master.” Nick whispered. As if on their own, his slave's arms went around his hips and sweaty hands lay against the warmth of his back. “I shouldn’t have, but I saw Master Grissom and Billy.” 

Greg turned his head so the soft caress of Nick’s hair was against his chin. “What did you see my own?” 

Nick tremble slightly but he didn’t let go. Greg wanted to crow in victory. “I thought Billy was being punished. I should have walked away, but it was like when Master Grissom had you across his lap, master. Billy was,” Greg felt Nick burrow closer, “was enjoying it.” 

“What was it?” 

“Flogging, master,” Nick’s voice lowered. “Not like any flogging I had ever seen. And Billy was aroused and at his master’s command, he found release.” 

Greg kept his touches light but despite his fear, Nick was erect against his hip. “What caused you fear, my own? You are safe here.” 

“I got distracted,” Nick whispered, “I didn’t follow your command. Catherine saw me. She directed me to Phelps. I wanted to be the one to tell you, master.” 

Greg nuzzled the soft strands, “What happened?” 

“In the company the slave traders kept,” Nick’s head rested against his shoulder, “Slaves tried to keep favor by getting other slaves in trouble. It mattered not if it was the truth. Many times I was beaten because the traders believed the word of another slave over mine.” 

“And you thought if Catherine told me first, she would tell me an exaggerated version to incite my wrath, give you a beating, and possibly sell you?” Greg tightened his arms as Nick tensed. 

“Yes, master,” Nick sounded forlorn and resigned. 

Greg kissed Nick’s forehead causing him to pull back in surprise. “Was the door open?” 

Nick blinked and answered honestly, “Yes, master.” 

“Then everything is fine, my own. You have lived in a world of fear with little to no rules outside of service and pain. If Grissom wanted his session with Billy to be private, it would have been in a closed off room. Knowing Grissom, he was expecting Catherine to join them. You did not know that and given this morning’s activities, your curiosity is warranted. There is nothing to punish, especially since you followed my command.” Nick still looked stunned and confused. Greg picked up the sunscreen at his feet. “You brought me this and you were up front with what happened. Even if it had been a breach of etiquette, I would have dealt with that. You did nothing worthy of discipline or punishment, Nicky.  I'm definitely not selling you. You are mine and I’m never letting you go.” Greg cupped the square jaw. “I know you have no reason to believe me now, but you will. You are such a good boy, sometimes I think there is much I could learn from you.” 

Nick blushed but sat quietly in his arms. Greg prompted him to lean against his chest once more and resumed rubbing Nick’s warm skin. Every once and awhile, Nick would squirm. Greg could feel the rub of his slave’s erection but decided it wasn’t time to draw attention to it. Not after the emotional roller coaster Nick had already been on and Greg knew what type of attention his own body would want. His ass wasn’t up to another spanking quite so soon.

There was something he wanted to try, he just hoped he wasn’t pushing too fast too soon. 

“Nicky?” 

He smiled at the quiet hum before his boy sat back up and blinked at him owlishly. “Yes, master?” 

“You have the right to say no, tell me you understand.” Greg watched as the haziness quickly bled out of Nick’s features, his eyes becoming alert and serious. 

“I understand, master.” 

Greg bit his lip. He wanted so much. “I want to kiss you, my own. I don’t want to kiss a piece of property. I want to kiss you and have you kiss me back.” Nick went tense under his hands but not rigid with terror. “I want to kiss you, will you let me?” 

He waited and began to worry when the slave did not answer him quickly. He could see the busy thoughts running through Nick’s mind as he worried his bottom lip. Then his heart stopped. Nick lifted his gaze shyly and smiled, “If it would please my master, I would like for you to kiss me.” 

Greg cupped Nick’s face, “My own.” His voice shook and touched Nick’s lips with his own. The slave’s lips were dry and still. Greg started to pull back at the failure of the attempt. Then a soft wet touch brushed against his bottom lip. His eyes went to Nick’s and saw the dark curious eyes watching him intently. Greg parted his own lips slowly and felt the tentative touch. 

He knew he was the one trembling as his mouth slid against Nick’s and deepened their kiss. The taste and texture of Nick filled his senses and he wanted more. He felt the long thin arms slide up his back pressing him closer in his slave’s embrace. 

The need for air caused them to part. Nick’s lips were wet, swollen and Greg felt the possessiveness rise. He ran his thumb over Nick’s bottom lip. Nick’s lips closed in a soft brush of a kiss. 

“Master?” 

Greg smiled at his slave, “Yes, my own?” 

Nick sucked in a deep breath. “If it would please my master, I would like to do that again.” 

As Greg lowered his lips, he whispered, “Mine.” 

“Yours,” brushed against his own in response as Nick kissed him in return. 

They didn’t see Grissom smirk with Catherine in his arms.

*~*

Grissom had been mildly concerned when at the worried frown on Catherine’s face. She had hurried to his side, as he held Billy. 

Gods be damned but the boy was gorgeous when he let go and flew at his master’s command. He held the slender boy in his lap, keeping him close and talking to him. He had just pressed into his hands as the beautiful green eyes fluttered and closed. He would sleep deeply after a session like that. 

 

 

 

Catherine on the other hand, paced like a caged cat. He settled Billy on the mound of cushions. With an arm around her shoulders, he led Catherine away. Disturbing Billy unnecessarily would shock him and leave him confused. Grissom did not like yanking them out of their head spaces unduly. 

He eased the ball gag out of her mouth. “It’s over now, my love. Talk to me.” 

She licked her dry lips and worked her jaw. “I’m worried about Master Greg’s slave. I walked up to him and startled him.” 

Grissom’s forehead puckered, “That is not an offense to concern yourself with darling, you remember how Billy was, Nick is much the same.” 

She lowered her eyes, “Nick was watching you and Billy at the time, he was also aroused. When he spoke, his eyes were rolling like a frightened horse. He asked for Phelps and fled.” 

“Did you see Greg on your way back to the house?” Grissom asked briskly. 

“At the pool, master,” Grissom nodded quickly and left to make sure he could head off a possible train wreck. Nick was in precarious position, one little misstep and he could lose all of the ground he had gained. 

He asked Greg if he needed assistance when he found them together, but Greg had brushed him off, his tone dark and authoritative. Grissom’s lips twitched, his instincts on Greg had proved correct as well. 

Catherine pressed to his side. He lifted his eyebrow in question. 

“He’s sleeping deeply, master. Knowing Billy, it will be hours before he awakens.” She said quietly. 

“Then stay at my side, because this will be quite the show.” He kissed her temple and gathered her into his arms. 

It was breathtaking to watch the balance between Greg’s mastery and Nick’s submitting willingly as a slave unfold. Greg was going to be a good one, Grissom wouldn’t accept less. And his young protégé had already fallen heart first for his damaged slave. That could be a problem in their society. To follow blindly with one’s heart, could risk the very fragile existence of their slaves. That was one of the many reasons he shielded Catherine and Billy. Society had become ugly. Slaves and the helpless bore the brunt of the cruelty and the depravity. 

Catherine sighed at the first gentle kiss. It was tentative on both sides but soon became more. He looked down at his girl with smirk and she returned with a smile. She gasped quietly as he lifted her off of her feet. She had bore her punishment with dignity as she always had, alerted him through her concern for a damaged slave, and he had not gotten a release with Billy. 

Such heady pheromones in the air made Grissom horny. Dominating was not what he wanted; he wanted to make love to his girl. He carried her back to Billy’s side. He did not want his boy to awake alone and after falling that deep into his head space, Billy just needed Grissom near by. Generally, Billy would not speak or interact outside of cuddling for the better part of the evening. Grissom would be lucky to get him to eat anything before morning. 

Catherine was beautiful as he eased the robe from her shoulders. Her skin, her hair, her scent was a sweet as strawberries and cream. He feasted on her mouth laying her back against the pillows. When her hands went to him to pleasure him, he just pushed them aside. 

“I love you, Catherine,” He groaned, parting her thighs, needing her taste. He brushed his whiskers against the inner skin of her thighs. Her slim fingers went to his hair, not pushing or guiding, just touching. 

Catherine was his everything. She followed his moods, his needs, and gave him all. He dipped his head and laved at the folds of skin that were swollen and beginning to part. She gave a quiet hiss. He could feel the tremors as she kept still for him. He looked up and repeated the whisker brush against her stomach. The flat surface trembled slightly. 

“Look at me,” Her blue eyes met his own, “Repeat after me, yes, Gil.” 

She bit down on her lip and the blue pools shimmered. “Yes, Gil.” 

He smiled at her and kissed the skin below her navel. Her quiet moan was all the answer he needed. He moved across her skin, kissing and paying reverence. Her hands in his hair moved him where she wanted. 

That one small phrase changed everything between them in the quiet solitude of the bedroom. 

He grazed his teeth against the small bud peeking out him and she bucked upwards. “Please, oh god, Gil,” she hissed, mindful of Billy’s sleeping form. He used his mouth to give her the pleasure she was seeking before levering up above her panting body. 

“I love you, Catherine,” his voice was husky as he settled between her parted thighs. He nudged at her opening playfully. She narrowed her icy blue eyes. 

“I love you, too, Gil,” She replied. Wrapping her strong dancing legs about his waist, she dug in and spurred his ass with her heels. 

He could not help laughing against her damp neck as he sank deep inside her body. She fit him like a glove and he shuddered. Her arms came around him and hugged him close. 

“Let go, Gil.” She said against his ear. He growled as she nipped the lobe with her teeth. He let go of his famous control and fucked her. Their hips slapped against one another. He felt her body tense and found another release, her body becoming wetter. His hands slipped beneath her ass and tilted her hips so he could get deeper. When she tightened around him again, his eyes rolled back. His thrusting became erratic, his balls pulled tight. He covered her mouth with his own as his seed boiled out of him and into her receptive body. 

It was she that held him as his body was wracked with shudders. It was she that kissed his sweaty temple as he blinked blearily. It was she that said, “It’s okay, Gil, I’ve got you.” 

His arms tightened and he listened to the beat of her heart. The release left him tired but satisfied. A small chuckle had him turning towards Billy. 

“I love to watch the two of you, master,” Billy said slowly, voice dreamy, his body and mind still merging from his high. 

Grissom was not surprised when they each reached out to the boy and maneuvered his naked body between them in one mind. The boy rested his head against the soft curve of Catherine’s chest and his fingers tangled with his master’s across his belly. 

He pressed a kiss to Billy’s nape and met Catherine’s gaze, “I think they have come as far as they can for now, it is time to push Greg out of the nest.” 

Catherine nodded but Billy whined in disappointment. “I’m not going to leave them out in the cold, brutal world all alone, little one. It is just they need time to get their own rhythm, in their own home, within Greg’s life.” 

Billy cleared his throat and mumbled, “But what about?” 

“I have one last lesson. Before bedtime, I want you both to serve me during the meal as if we did not have guests. It should not be too much of a shock to Nick but I suspect it will be for Greg. Little one, I want to use the same flogger. Will that be alright?” 

“As it pleases, my master,” Billy replied before yawning widely. 

Grissom chuckled. “Rest, the both of you, this evening will be trying once again.  I fell as though they are ready for the lesson. I will speak to Greg about Nick’s reactions to fellow slaves. I know he has had some bad experiences, but other owners can try to use Nick’s fear as leverage to manipulate Greg. I won’t be with him at all times, but he can contact me at will.” 

Catherine nodded, “Maybe we can invite them back in few weeks, help to ease Nick even more.” 

Grissom noticed the wicked gleam in her sleepy blue eyes. His own laugh was dark, “I doubt that will ever happen, my girl, Greg is pretty protective and possessive already. I think he would whip you if you tried and you wouldn’t like it.” 

She blinked, her mouth opening in dramatic shock, “Why master, you would let him whip me?” 

“On second thought, I may give him permission to work in his lab. I know how much you like cataloguing.” 

That made her pout, “Sleep, my naughty girl.” She just smiled and closed her eyes. Billy was already pliant and breathing deeply. 

Grissom let his own eyes droop. If Nick was aroused when Billy was flogged, how would react to his Master being flogged? It was the logical next step based on Greg's own needs that had surfaced. 

Just the thought of Greg’s beautiful, lean body in throes of release by his hand, had Grissom’s cock twitching half heartedly. He was looking forward to this last session of training. He would show Greg true mastery. 

*~*

Nick was quiet. He had so much to process and yet he did not to want to lapse into a meditative state because there was still so much to observe, learn, and pay attention to. 

Not the silhouette of his master’s naked body as he soaped himself clean behind the frosted glass of the shower, no not at all. Nor the water sliding across lean muscle as he went through the motions of drying his master. And most definitely not the straining, angry red erection that speared up between his master’s thighs, the ring doing its job quite well. 

 

 

Nope, he thought, all of that faded into existence at the thought of the taste of his master that still lingered. The red, lush lips parting and allowing him in, allowing him to not only be kissed but to kiss as well. The fact that his master was a man inconsequential, he had been asked for the intimate touch and he had asked to repeat it in return. 

He blinked as he helped settle the brown silk across broad shoulders, covering the curious faded scars. When was the last time he had been asked? His mind shied away from the question, because at the end of his free life, well, he had not felt much control either. 

Nick had been molded and shaped into a pleasure slave through fear, degradation, and humiliation. That was all he truly knew after the brief respite at the training center. This world of his master’s and Master Grissom’s was so different. It was making him different. He mentally thought he should fear it; a slave’s fate could change on a dime. 

He looked up when his master cupped his face and smiled at him. Greg tilted his head towards the shower. “I’ll be waiting in the other room, my own, take your time. The sun has made me drowsy. I need to medicate your wounds and then we shall rest. Who knows what Grissom has in store, but I have a feeling we will both want to be alert.” Greg’s lips curved but the brown eyes were serious. 

Greg seemed to hesitate before brushing a fleeting kiss against his lips and hurrying into the adjoining bedroom. 

His fingers touched the ghost of the sensation. His heart jumped. Nick knew that his master desired him. He put away the things in the bathroom before stepping beneath the spray. Looking down between his own thighs, his body was responding to his shy master as well. 

Nick soaped his body quickly and efficiently. The abrasions were starting to heal and his muscles has had relaxed, the tension in his back and shoulder gone. As he dried his body, he wondered just how bad he would scar. Back before his enslavement and his life on the streets, he had been muscular. He took pride in his looks and his body. Survival took precedence and inconsequential things such as physical appearance took little thought. With the first slave trader, he just blanked his mind to what happened to his body. 

His master,  _Greg_ , had started breaking through the walls that he had put up to protect himself. It mattered not what his sexual orientation was from before, he was to serve at the pleasure of his master now. His mind and body were coming back online and in agreement with one another. He felt needy, his body desperate for the affection that his master gave him. He was intrigued by the atmosphere here at Master Grissom’s, Billy and Catherine were unlike any slaves he had ever known. 

Images flickered in his mind and his hand went to his cock. His master’s body arching with release, his master’s body meeting the blows to his ass, Billy’s look of bliss at being flogged. His hand moved faster and faster until the tell tale signs of release boiled in his gut. 

Nick reeled backwards until his back met cool tile and he held his hands above his head, breathing heavily. What the hell was he thinking? 

“Nicky?” Greg’s voice called out, his tone of voice held mild concern. 

As he panted, he realized that his master was not in the bathroom with him. His sweet master, he thought as his heart resumed a slower rate. Of course Greg would give him privacy unless he called out for him. 

“My own?” The voice was closer, near the bathroom door. 

“I’m coming, Master.” Nick called out, turning off the water and wincing at his choice of words. The erection had dwindled some in his panic attack. Then he remembered that his master still had to medicate his injuries. His cock twitched at the thought. His buttocks clenched. He was mostly healed on the inside. 

It was both a blessing and a curse. He padded across the bathroom and into the adjoining room to kneel at his master’s feet. The blessing was that his body was finally healing from his torment. The curse was his master could use his body as was his right. His curse was that he did not understand the longing in his gut for his master to take him, for his body wanting his master to exercise his right to Nick's body.  

Anal sex meant pain. 

Greg’s intimate touch had been anything but pain. The long, slender fingers were gentle and methodical. His breath hitched as the soft brush of Greg’s curls against his skin. From the earlier experience, he could understand that heavy breathing and what it meant for his master. 

Greg grasped his hip and turned him slowly. The man stood before him with a wistful smile on his face. Nick dropped his eyes only to see their erect cocks between them. It seemed as if they were reaching out for the other. 

His master gave a rueful chuckle. “As much as I want to, my own, I don’t want another spanking. I’ve learned my lesson.” He stepped back and gestured to Nick’s erection. “Do you want to take care of that?” 

Nick could feel the blood rush to his face and heat his skin, “No, master. I’m fine.” 

Greg nodded, a flush tinting his own cheeks. “I don’t know about you, my own, but sun always makes me sleepy. I don’t know what Grissom has planned for this evening, but I want us both alert and on our toes.” 

He knew what his master wanted and his need to please his master had him moving. Nick pulled back the soft sheets and plumped the pillows before stepping back. Greg gave him that soft smile that made butterflies flutter and slipped between the sheets. The elegant hand took Nick’s own and pulled him into the bed. 

Once again, Greg took his hand and pulled it over his abdomen. The maneuver had Nick spooned against his master. His half hard flesh settled against his master’s ass. Greg sighed quietly, his hips moving back into the cradle of Nick’s thighs. The deep steady breathing signaled that Greg was asleep. 

Nick was wide awake. Taking in the sensations of having warm skin pressed against his own without bone shaking panic. Taking in the scent of his master, a unique blend of citrus, sandalwood, and rich coffee, and realized that the scent calmed and soothed him. Taking in the fact that his finger tips brushed against the smooth muscle of his master’s stomach and heat pooled in his gut. 

It was a lot to take in. His trust in his master had solidified in a few short days. He could not wrap his mind around the fact that the trust was beginning to grow into something else? 

It was a lot to take in that he wanted his master to desire him in ways that he had never wanted before. It was a lot to take in that Nick actually allowed himself permission to want again. 

Above all else, it was a lot take in that Nick was beginning to desire his master as well.

*~*

 

 

"Master?"

Grissom shook his head and tipped the boy's head back by his chin. "Don't play innocent. My pride in you overrides my good sense. You were supposed to have a long bath and relax, remember?" 

Billy's slender thigh worked itself between Grissom's legs. "Mmmmhmmm, but I did relax, master." 

That caused him to laugh out right causing Catherine to stir. She smiled and then curled around Billy's back. It gave Grissom a deep sense of contentment. No matter what happened in the outside world, Catherine and Billy were his island of serenity. 

"Be that as it may, little one, my order still stands. After this evening's meal, my girl is going to bathe you and tuck you in." Billy's brow puckered. Grissom rolled onto his back and pulled his boy to rest upon his chest. "Talk to me." 

Billy worried his bottom lip until Grissom squeezed his ass in warning. "The training, master, I want to help with the training, for Nick." 

Grissom pulled his head into the cradle of his shoulder. "I know, baby, but you come first in all things. And you have been over taxed, you will serve me during the meal and then I will have a private session with Greg and Nick. You trust your old master, don't you?" The boy's cheek brushed his chest as he nodded. "They have come so far and need a little more of nudge. They will need to get on with their lives. You understand that?" Again the boy nodded. 

"Good, both of you, clean up and be ready to attend my meal." Grissom smirked at Catherine's audible intake of breath and Billy's moan. "I don't need to remind either of you, tonight is for Billy to rest. I won't be with you until late and you don't have permission to play." 

"Yes, master," They piped in almost unison.

*~*

Grissom smirked when Greg entered the dining room with Nick’s hand firmly in his own. The smirk widened as Greg came to a halt, his mouth falling into an astonished ‘O’. 

“Have you been so sheltered, my boy, that you have never seen slaves serve their masters?” 

Greg knew he should reply. He did have a reply but his brain and his mouth had been disconnected by shock. 

Billy and Catherine stood at Grissom’s side, naked except for the collars glittering at their throats. His cock surged only to be reminded by the painful bite of the cock ring. Greg felt Nick’s hand tighten. 

His arm went around Nick’s hips and pulled him close. What the hell did Grissom have in store for them now? 

“Sit Greg,” Grissom commanded lowly. “We have much to discuss.” The glittering blue eyes then went to his slave. “You understand what is going on here, don’t you Nicky?” 

Greg looked up. Nick’s face was placid but his body tense. He nodded his head and replied quietly, “Yes, sir.” 

“Then serve your master, boy.” Grissom said firmly. 

Greg opened his mouth to protest but Grissom shut him down with a look. Nick took a deep breath and dropped the soft red robe around his feet. Greg let out a sound between a gasp and a moan. Nick’s painfully thin body was exposed for all to see.  

He found his voice and sputtered, “Grissom!” as Nick’s movements were sure as he prepared his master’s plate and lifted the fork to his master’s mouth. Greg was dumbfounded. He parted his lips and his boy fed him a delicate slice of greens with a spicy dressing. 

Grissom ignored him. The elder man was being fed wine from a crystal goblet. His hands were busy however, one hand on Billy’s cock and the other between Catherine’s thighs. 

The blush was a violent red. As Nick reached across him, he whispered hoarsely. “I won’t expect this from you, my own. I would never, I couldn’t..” He trailed off as Nick held out buttered bread. 

“If it pleases, my master,” Nick responded quietly, that shy upward curve of his lips, “My body is yours, master. I am here to serve at your pleasure.” 

Greg chewed the bread slowly. His fingers twitched and he trailed an experimental finger over one sharp hipbone. Nick’s movements did not falter as the courses were changed. Greg would not even look down towards Grissom. He didn’t feel comfortable touching Nick intimately yet, with or without an audience. This new protocol was different from any that Grissom had exposed him to so far. 

He followed his instinct and maneuvered Nick into his lap. Greg kept his hands away from his boy’s groin and fed him in turn. To say that he was in agony was an understatement. Nick’s weight against him was comforting, the brushes of skin against his lips, the touch of his fingertips on Nick’s lips were electric. He could sense Nick’s reactions more accurately. When the meal was cleared, Nick was huddled against his chest, the dark head on his shoulder. 

Grissom coughed. 

Greg blinked and then replied, “I’m sorry, didn’t you say we had much to talk about?” 

Grissom laughed. Catherine was behind him, massaging his shoulders and Billy rested in his lap much like Nick was in his own. The boy’s eyes were at half mast and his body pliant. 

“Lesson learned, sweet boy, discussion can wait.” 

Butterflies kicked in his stomach at the being called  _sweet boy_. His voice cracked when he asked, “Then what now?” 

Grissom’s face could only be called evil when he replied, “You have learned punishment from my hand, sweet boy. Now you will learn reward.”

*~*

Grissom smirked when Greg entered the dining room with Nick's hand firmly in his own. The beauty of the trust between them was a wonder to behold. He had thought it would have taken Nick longer, being older and so damaged. He could relate, though, Greg was just too adorable to deny. He felt his smirk widened as Greg came to a halt, his mouth falling into an astonished 'O'. 

"Have you been so sheltered, my boy, that you have never seen slaves serve their masters?" He chuckled out loud as Greg gaped like a fish. His sharp eyes also took in Nick's reaction. Whoever had trained Nick before the abusive slave traders had done a decent job. The older slave looked calm and resigned. 

Greg was testing his dominant nature, he thought as the younger man fought to understand his surroundings. It would be so very easy to command Greg and have him naked and kneeling at his feet. The need bubbled under the surface. Yet, Greg was also a Master and it pleased Grissom to no end that Greg's first instinct was to care for his slave. Nick was going to be in very good hands. Greg would be too. 

"Sit Greg," Grissom commanded lowly. "We have much to discuss." It was a fine line to command another's property, especially one as possessive as Greg's developing nature. Greg knew that his focus was to train them both. "You understand what is going on here, don't you Nicky?" 

Nick's face was placid but his body tense. Despite the healing body, the older slave could be a study in perfection. Grissom pursed his lips, automatic response but aware of everything. Nick would lose the tenseness as he became more comfortable with Greg and the trust would allow him to be secure that he was safe and his master would not allow him to be harmed. Grissom felt a warm wash of pride as Nick nodded his head and replied quietly, "Yes, sir." 

"Then serve your master, boy." Grissom said firmly. Greg opened his mouth to protest but Grissom shut him up with a look. 

Nick took a deep breath and dropped the soft red robe around his feet. Greg let out a sound between a gasp and a moan. Nick's painfully thin body was exposed for all to see. Billy also twitched nervously. Grissom rubbed his back for comfort. The bruised, battered body was a visual reminder of the pain that his youngest slave had endured. 

Greg finally found his voice and sputtered, "Grissom!" Grissom watched with some amusement at the juxtaposition of Greg's outrage and Nick's calm service. Nick's movements were sure as he prepared his master's plate and lifted the fork to his master's mouth. Greg was dumbfounded. He parted his lips and his boy fed him a delicate slice of greens with a spicy dressing. Grissom felt his own cock twitch at Greg's expression. Lust, longing, worry, and affection for his boy were clear in his soft dark eyes. 

Grissom purposefully ignored the two at the end of the table. Billy was not the only one who could tempt his famous control. So he monitored them out of the corner of his eye and focused on his own slaves. He accepted wine from a crystal goblet, Catherine's smile devious. Grissom growled lowly tugging Billy closer, cupping his groin. He lifted an eyebrow at his girl as he slipped his free hand between her thighs, causing her to gasp quietly. 

Grissom gave Catherine a devious grin as he worked her damp flesh. Nodding in defeat, she moved back and worked on his plate, cutting food and arranging cutlery. She kissed his temple as he pulled Billy into his lap. He fed them both even as they served him. Catherine's purr of delight distracted him from the squirming boy that he feasted on. He licked the bruise on Billy's neck before turning his attention to his girl.

"They are beautiful, master," Catherine replied quietly with a nod of her head. He took in the tableau at the end of the table and smiled. Greg had gone from being outraged and nervous to completely enamored by his slave. Nick was seated in Greg's lap. They were feeding each other oblivious of their surroundings. When the meal was cleared, Nick was huddled against his chest, the dark head on his shoulder. 

Grissom coughed. He knew it was time to move forward. He had one last lesson before lengthening the tether, giving Greg and Nick the space to gain their own rhythm but close enough to help when needed.  
   
Greg's expression was dreamy as he blinked owlishly. His voice was hoarse from disuse as he replied, "I'm sorry, didn't you say we had much to talk about?" 

Grissom laughed. Catherine was behind him, massaging his shoulders and Billy rested in his lap much like Nick was seated in Greg's. The boy's eyes were at half mast and his body pliant. The tone that Greg had used was one of a self-assured master not a flailing submissive. It was time, he just hoped that his instincts were Nick was concerned did not fail him. It was going to push their building intimacy into a new level. He just hoped that it wasn't too soon. "Lesson learned, sweet boy, discussion can wait." 

And there it was, Grissom almost moaned. Greg's eyes dropped to half mast and the need crackled, "Then what now?" 

He knew it was ratcheting up the anticipation but he could not resist a smirk, "You have learned punishment from my hand, sweet boy. Now you will learn reward." 

*~* 

Grissom had sent Catherine along to lead Greg and his Nick into the playroom. Everything was ready. He lifted his own boy's slight weight into his arms and carried him to his room. Billy sat on the bed with his arms crossed and his head low. He was still so young. 

"Don't pout, little one." He commanded. Billy winced and slid to kneel at his feet with head on the floor. "And none of that, up." Billy looked up solemnly before returning to sit on his bed. "Let Catherine pamper you, pretty soon our guests will be gone and things will get back to normal." 

Billy nodded and then said quietly, "Master?" 

Grissom smiled and carded the boy's hair, "Yes, my darling boy?" 

"Will we get to see Nick and his master again?" 

Grissom paused. He kept his slaves close to home and secluded to protect them. A young boy like Billy would yearn for companionship outside himself and Cath, even Phelps. Despite the fact that Nick being older, his boy felt kinship and sympathy for Greg's slave. It would mean opening himself up after being such a self imposed recluse. Grissom could deny his boy nothing. He leaned down and kissed Billy deeply and then brushed his lips across his boy's forehead.  
   
"Yes, little one, you shall see them again and probably often. Now, lie back and wait for Catherine. I will want you to be rested and ready to serve me in the morning." He nudged the naked boy onto his bed. The way the lean body curled on the bed made him want to forget his commitments and possess his boy into the early morning hours. He landed a soft blow on the curved buttocks, muttering, "Little imp," before taking his leave. 

He had a reward to administer. 

*~*  
   
Nick fought the need to tremble as he and his master were left in the training room. All of the implements that hung from the wall, he knew most of them painfully well. His eyes kept tracking back to the heavy hook. It reminded of him of how many times he had been strung up, left blacked out and bleeding, being beaten within an inch of his life, never sure of what infraction caused it. 

He did startle hard when Grissom walked in briskly. He pressed his head against his master's thigh, not sure what was going to happen. The new sounds of strings and flutes were the farthest from his mind. 

"Come here, sweet boy," Grissom commanded lowly. Nick could see that automatic reaction in his master. His limbs were loose and his face, relaxed. Nick felt slightly comforted in the hand in his hair before Greg made his way to stand before the older master. 

Grissom was quiet as he disrobed Greg. His movements were methodical as the older man latched soft cuffs around his master's wrists, running a chain between them. Nick wanted to warn his master when the younger man's arms were lifted and attached to the hook. It stretched out Greg's lean body, but there was no discomfort on his master's face. Master Grissom had left enough length so that his master's bare feet rested comfortably on the floor. Nick watched Grissom lean in and whisper against Greg's ear, gooseflesh rippling across the bare skin as his master shivered. 

Greg licked his dry lips and looked to where Nick was still kneeling, "Come here, my own." It was a command that called to Nick. No matter his fear, it was his master and it was Greg. Despite the strangeness, Nick knew that he was safe. He fought the automatic need to cringe when Grissom touched him. The older master maneuvered him until he stood before his master. 

"Trust Grissom, Nicky," Greg said lowly. Nick kept his eyes on his master, taking solace into the warmth as Grissom disrobed him as well. He relaxed. His master gave him a gentle smile and said quietly, "Mine."  
   
"Yours, master." He replied, allowing his tense muscles to relax and go pliant. He sucked in a breath as his body came into contact with his master's warm skin. It was distracting to the point that he did not  sense the shackles on his wrists until Grissom stepped back. He looked as his master desperately. He was bound by his wrists, his arms around his master's hips, his hands just above the curve of his master's ass. He whimpered. 

Greg soothed him, "Nicky, are you uncomfortable or afraid? If you are, we can stop. This is a reward for both of us as well as a lesson. I want to be close to you, I want to feel you. I want to touch you and show you that you do not have to be afraid. Grissom will not hurt you or touch you. He's going to touch me. Do you understand my own?" 

He tipped his head forward so that his head rested in the cradle of his master's shoulder. His master groaned but kept still. His master's scent filled his nose, he was safe. "Yes, master." 

Greg turned and kissed his temple, "If it is too much, tell me. It will stop." The tone was dark and forceful and Nick shuddered in response. 

"I believe we are ready, now." Grissom said, his own voice echoing the deep, dark texture. "I was going to deny you, sweet boy. Disobedience is not tolerated. I thought to teach you control but you are not my boy. You are my friend and I will help you with the need within you aches to submit. You have come so far in just a matter of days with your slave that you no longer need me." Grissom moved on, despite Greg's wordless protest. "I will always be here for you, sweet boy. You are ready, both of you are. So this is the last lesson as well as reward. You have every right to touch Nicky's body for he is yours." He could feel the older man's hands on his master's groin. Greg's hiss of pleasure told him that he was unbound. Jutting out, his cock was pressed between his body and Nick's hip.

Nick shuddered as the warm palm squeezed his neck, his knees trembled. "You know it is his right, Nicky, but you also know that Greg is good man and will be a good master. You have no need to fear him." 

He watched as Grissom grasped Greg by the nape as well. He could feel the twitch against him. Greg's eyes almost closed. "Enjoy your reward, sweet boy, take your pleasure as needed." 

Grissom's presence disappeared. Greg used the length between his cuffs to lean against Nick's warm body. "I don't know if you will have the same reaction, Nicky, but you don't have to hold back. You please me by being you, my own." 

Nick gasped as he felt the soft ends of a flogger brush his fisted hands. Greg moaned and his hips bucked. 

"Flogging is not just for punishment," Grissom said off handedly. "It is about sensation and texture. Feel the ends on your skin, the pressure that the throw can cause." 

Nick heard the dull thud as the ends landed on his master's back, barely seeing the suede tips slither away before another throw. Greg went still as the blows landed evenly. It was never hard, just pressure. Grissom would change the rhythm and trail the flogger strands over his master's heaving chest, the suede touching Nick's own hypersensitive skin as well. As the music swelled, the tempo of the throws matched. Greg's hips were rocking into the blows, causing friction between their straining flesh. 

Following his own instincts, Nick's fisted hands opened slowly and slid them along the flesh of his master's flexing ass. Greg hissed and whispered, "Yes." Nick felt nerves swirling in his gut but his needy cock overrode his common sense. Unsure, he let his fingers slip into the damp valley of his master's ass. "That's right, my own, god, touch me, Nicky." 

They curved into one another. Greg's head rested against Nick's shoulder, even as Nick rested against master. Nick held his master as Greg's body strained against the restraints that bound him. His nervous fingers crept closer and closer to the most intimate part of his master. The same part of himself clenched in sympathy, memories of pain and agony. 

"Please, Nicky," Greg thrashed and humped desperately. "I need it, touch me. Now, Nick, touch me now."  
   
His thumb grazed the wrinkled skin before pressing slightly inward, terror causing sweat to break out over his body. Greg howled and threw his head back. Nick could feel the wet warmth spread between them and followed helplessly, giving up his seed. 

Their bodies leaned against one another, both heaving and dazed. Nick started as Grissom touched his shoulder and his master's neck. 

"Beautiful."

*~* 

Greg did not know what to say. He sat in the darkened room. In the silence, he reflected on what had happened under Grissom's supervision. He felt uncertain and worried. It was a heat of the moment reaction, but he was afraid it was going to set him back to where he started.

He propped his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He was so used to being in control. His father alone kept his life tumultuous. He tried to keep an upbeat outlook even as he got stabbed in the back repeatedly and his heart ripped out of his chest. Did his shitty life that he kept to himself, lead him to make the wrong decisions?

Why was it so easy to give up control to Grissom? He would not lie to himself. He felt energized and safe in the aftermath, feeling secure enough to be fragile. And if he was honest, he could see himself seeking out the connection to the older man to allow himself to give up control.

Then there was Nick, even now he could hear the breathing that was just to steady, in take of breath, five beats, exhale. His boy had probably fooled many in the past. But not Greg, he recognized the ploy for what it was and it made him cringe. A step forward, two steps back. How would his slave every truly trust him to give himself over to Greg’s care without fear?

He got up and paced, the answers didn’t come. His path was focused on the steady breathing. Four steps, turn, four steps turn. 

“Master?”

Greg yelped and then he cursed when Nick went down on his knees, his forehead on the floor. He went down on his own knees, taking his slave by his shoulders and lifting.

“You don’t need to fear me, Nicky,” He said tiredly. The dark head lowered, “I know it is such an ingrained response when you are scared and just a few days won’t change that.” He gave a gusty sigh and sat back. “Was there something you needed, my own?”

Nick licked his lips and Greg closed his eyes. He felt so raw inside that he could fuck up the tenuous bond between them with blind lust. He wanted to push Nick on to his back and touch every inch of him. He wanted the connection that two bodies together represented. To do it with Nick submitting dutifully, that left him cold inside.

“Master,” Nick’s quiet voice broke into his rambling thoughts, “Is something wrong?” It made him pause. Yes, his boy had come quite a ways in just a few short days. He should be thankful for small blessings. “Are you coming to bed?”

In the dark, away from knowing, understanding eyes, Greg broke. “I didn’t think you would want me near you, not after what I did. I promised you that it would be your choice and I took that away.”

A warm hand reached out, paused, and then touched his bare knee. Greg sucked in a ragged breath. Nick willingly touched him.

“Master,” Nick’s voice changed, steadier, more self assured. Maybe he felt safe in the dark as well, “You know that you have every right to do to my body that which you want. It is staggering that you haven’t exercised your right to take me before now.” The fingers moved, slowly along the muscle of Greg's thigh, a feather touch that made him hyper aware. “Master,” Nick faltered, “You didn’t force me, not in the way that you were thinking. For me, force has been pain, degradation, not feeling safe, not knowing when I would be beaten and for what. That has been force in my life before you.”

“I was not attracted to men, before,” Nick’s voice lowered. Greg frowned. His slave sounded almost shy. “The use of my body for a man’s pleasure had a brutal introduction. That has affected me,” a hesitant breath, “until you, master. You have shown me that it could have been different, it could have been gentle, it could have changed my perception of men enjoying sex with one another.” The soft touch stilled, “You have changed me, Master. I still have to fight my fear, but I now know that I can relax. There will be situations that we will still need to work through, but you’ve shown me that we can. I know that when I come to terms with the fact that I desire you, too,” Greg’s heart stopped, “You will be there to guide me.”

He looked up at the shadowed profile of Nick’s serious face. The image was the Nick of the before, a little shy and still damaged, but more confident, more secure. Greg realized that maybe it was him, their dynamic that begun to build that allowed Nick to step from behind his protective walls and show him that secret part of himself.

“Talk to me, master,” The whispered voice faltered, trying for courage and still hampered by past abuse, “You have shown me that I can be a part of your life that you want me to be there for you.” The fingers started to stroke, to soothe once more. “I know that means eventually you will want me to be in your bed, but you’ve shown me that there is more. That you want us to build a foundation between us, let me do the same.

“I know you think you frightened me. I know you think that I was overwhelmed. You think that you coerced me and now have lost the ground that we have gained together.” Nick took a breath. “You haven’t, master. Talk to me, please, and if not, then come to bed, master.” He gave a quiet chuckle, “Never would I have thought that I would openly want to share a master’s bed, but I do. I find that it does not feel right to sleep without you.”

“Who is the master and who is the slave?” He blurted and Nick visibly flinched, “I’m sorry, my own, damn,” He said hastily, his hand going to Nick’s bare shoulder. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I should have said who is the teacher and who is the student?  You are amazing to me,” Greg said in wonder, Nick lifted his head in surprise. “You are. I dare say you are training me more than Grissom.” Nick ducked his head.

“It felt so good, to be with you, like that,” He said haltingly, “I wasn’t thinking, I just felt and you filled my senses.” His fingers rubbed over Nick’s warm skin. “You are correct; I feel as though I made you do something, I commanded you to touch me, when you weren’t ready.”

“M-m-master,” Nick’s lips trembled. “Please, come to bed, I would like your permission to try…”

Standing, he pulled Nick onto his feet, “Try, my own?”

“I, uh,” his body was trembling, but he seemed determined. “Let me, serve you…”

Greg felt the blood rush to his groin. “Nicky,” he almost whined. “This could blow up in our faces.”

Moving like moths to flame they stood side by side looking down at the bed. This was folly.

“Master,” The faltering disappeared and the earlier assured Nick made another appearance. “I think this is what Master Grissom has been trying to teach us, if I would make a presumption.”

Greg turned and sat down heavily. When Nick went to kneel, he captured him by his arm and guided him down close to his side. “Talk to me, my own.” He knew he was going to have to address the request; he just wanted to buy himself some time.

“Communication, master,” Nick said simply. “I belong to you and that is where it begins. We have to be subject to the expectations of society but here in private, where it is just you and I, all bets are off." Nick's voice had thickened and the twang of the south more evident, "I belong to you, master, and you make the rules.” Nick’s eyes were bright in the moonlight. “I know now that we can talk, master, and I won’t get beaten for impertinence. I know that I can tell you I’m afraid and I won’t get my teeth kicked in. And,” He shivered, biting his lower lip, “I know that when I tell you I would at least like to t-t-try, maybe y-y-you’ll l-l-et me. L-l-let me, pl-p-please you.”

Greg studied the slave that had gone from being completely terrified in the beginning to cautiously hopeful sitting at his side. He was afraid if he tried to speak any more he would just mess it up, destroy the fragile confidence that Nick had gained. Even if it was just this night, by the light of the moon, he would take it. Maybe it was just enough seed to sow a future relationship where physical intimacy was a possibility, he could dare to hope.

He lay back on the messy bed, keeping his body relaxed, never taking his eyes of his slave. Nick seemed to fortify himself before turning to curl on his side beside his master. He reached out and his hand froze in mid-air.

“You can touch me, my own,” He said hoarsely and Nick shot him a grateful look. “Tell me how you want me and if you can’t, show me.” His voice lowered and Nick shuddered in response.

Warm hands touched his chest lightly, tentatively exploring. Nick would look up quickly. Greg knew he was expecting to be reprimanded. For all of his surprising courage, old habits still remained. He allowed himself to be maneuvered onto his side, Nick curling up against his back. That made him sigh, it was beginning to feel so natural, to be pressed against his slave’s body from shoulder to ankle, spooned together. He noted that despite Nick’s words, he was still flaccid. The soft cock lay beneath the curve of his buttocks.

He reached for Nick’s arm, pulling it over his hip, drawing Nick closer. It felt so right. But this time, Nick’s hand flattened over his abdomen and caressed him gently, tentatively moving lower. He stopped breathing when the blunt fingertips brushed the edge of his curls.

“May I, master?” His boy’s voice was thick, his breath hot against the nape of his neck. Greg could feel the tremble of his body. Nick wanted to touch him even if it still made him nervous.

“Please,” he hissed.

The hand curled around his straining flesh was slick with oil, moving slowly from root to tip. When Nick’s thumb pressed into the slit, he gasped. He twisted but the hand on him did not falter, caressing him, spreading the leaking fluid about the head, the slide of warm skin becoming overwhelming.

“Nicky,” He whined, bucking into the touch. Greg would have sworn he felt the damp press of lips against his neck as he hurtled towards release, his balls tightening and his gut burning. He cried out and felt the spray of seed on his stomach and chest. Nick’s thin arm drew him close and held him as he panted.

He felt lethargic and heavy, dozing as he was wiped clean. He blinked and reached out. Cupping Nick’s cheek, “Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you so much, I don’t deserve such a wonderful gift.”

Nick’s lips just twitched as he leaned into the touch, “Yours, master.” He replied, his voice steady.

“Come, my own,” He drew Nick’s arm about him once more, “Sleep.”

“Yes, master,” Nick replied, his nose in Greg’s hair. 

As he closed his eyes, Greg felt the unmistakable erection nestled against his ass.

*~*

Breakfast was a subdued affair, the sense of ending in the air. If asked Greg would have laughed at the thought of accomplishing so much so quickly as he carded Nick’s soft hair, enjoying the weight of him against his leg, feeding him by his hand, and enjoying the shy smiles he received, he would be the first to say they truly had come quite a ways from the bumbling owner and the terrified slave.

Grissom cleared his throat drawing his attention. Instead of the usually smirk, Grissom gave him a soft smile. “Phelps will be ready to take you home as soon as you are.” He gestured to a thick envelope. “I have some information that I think you will find beneficial.” Greg perked up. “It contains lists of service providers and proprietors that I deal with exclusively when it comes to the care of Catherine and Billy. I have contacted them personally. They will treat you well, my boy.” Looking up at Catherine, his smile widened. “I suggest that you see Warrick Brown first, his shop and the services he provides are quite…interesting. Not too overwhelming,” He added seriously. “Warrick is a long time friend and I took the liberty to explain your situation. He is very good at what he does so please feel comfortable with his recommendations.”

“I appreciate everything that you have done for us, Grissom,” Greg said sincerely.

Grissom just waved him off, “I have also had Phelps in communication with Rand. You will find your home more prepared for taking care of a slave.” Greg opened his mouth to protest, “Think of it as a gift, sweet boy.”

Greg flushed at the endearment.

“I’m not abandoning you, Greg,” Grissom continued, “I’m but a phone call away. I will help you in anyway you need or desire,” That dark tone made his gut curl.

“Now for one final lesson,” Grissom finally smirked and Greg couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

He watched as Billy approached Nick. He knelt to Greg, “Per my master, sir, would you allow your slave to come and kneel beside me.”

Greg was proud that Nick didn’t flinch or tense in fear. The dark eyes met his own waiting for his command. He felt like something had broke between them, a new fragile ground that he was eager to explore. Leaning down and kissing Nick’s forehead, he whispered. “Go on, my own, but remember I am here if you need me.”

“Yes, master,” Nick replied with that endearing smile curving his lips.

He watched as Nick knelt gracefully beside Grissom’s beautiful male slave. Looking up he was surprised to find Catherine looming over him. Sitting back to give himself some space, he shot Grissom a look.

“You are a slave owner, Greg,” Grissom said, almost detached. “Other owners will expect you to act like it.” He snapped his fingers.

Catherine slid forward and straddled his lap. As she leaned down, his heart hammered. What the hell? 

*~* 

“Grissom!” Greg yelped. He pushed Catherine back by her shoulders.

Grissom sighed and rubbed his beard. “That is the reason behind this last lesson, my boy.” He pushed himself up and made his way to sit down beside the younger man.

“This has been a safe environment for you to learn how to take care of your boy. You also have to be able to take care of yourself.” Catherine moved back to kneel at his feet. “Your father will look for every avenue to hurt you and with the acquisition of Nick, you have made yourself more vulnerable.”

Greg growled and looked to make sure his slave was okay. Grissom had to smirk, he had never doubted Greg’s instincts when it came to his boy. 

“You are going to be in the circle of slave owners now, Greg. Most are okay, like you and I, caring about those who belong to us. You also know there is also a not so nice side.” Greg turned back, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Some owners are sadistic. Consider this, if you had reacted the way you did with my girl and I was such an owner. I would have punished her, seeing your reaction as a slight and a failure on her part.”

“What?” Greg sat up straighter and went pale.

“Or, some owners can be devious, using the distraction of their property to get at your own. Although that is more unlikely, because Nick would not be this far away from you, normally.” He peered at the younger man. “Nick will also be used against you, especially by your father, seeing that you are not married and have no heir to pass the business on to.”

Greg rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t have much say at this point. Mandatory retirement will remove him as corporate head. I am the rightful heir by bloodline. The only other child he has is not recognized because it is considered a bastard birth.” Greg’s eyes got a faraway look about them. “I don’t know if I have a half brother or sister. I just know the anger it sent my father into when he couldn’t overturn the law.”

He placed his hand against Greg’s nape and felt the resultant shudder. “Only experience will teach you this lesson, sweet boy.” He sat back and pulled Catherine onto his lap. “Keep Nick close, trust him over everyone, learn how to assess the situation you are in. There is a lot that you can do without really do anything.” He snapped his finger with a look to Billy. Catherine moved to stand at his side and the boy straddled his lap much as his girl had with Greg. He cupped the rounded ass and pulled him close burying his face in the soft neck. When he looked up, Greg was watching intently.

“What did you see?”

Greg bit his lip and his forehead furrowed, “You groped the boy’s ass and kissed his neck.”

“Really?” He lifted a brow. “Billy?”

The boy looked over his shoulder and said shyly, “My master asked what I wanted to do after breakfast, sir.”

Greg nodded slowly. He motioned for Nick to rejoin him, seating the slave into his lap and hugging him close.

Grissom cleared his throat once again. “You will learn misdirection, try to keep safe those who cannot protect themselves, and above all else rely on your relationship with Nick. Your boy knows how cruel slavery can be. Slaves will try to abuse him by using smoke and mirrors with their own masters. Masters will expect retribution at a perceived slight.”

“But Grissom, I can’t…” He held up his hand.

“Cath,” His girl knelt between his spread thighs. Pitching his voice harshly, “You ungrateful whore, how dare you shame me in front of my colleague?” His palm against her cheek cracked loudly.

“Grissom!” Even Nick flinched and huddled against his chest.

Catherine turned and showed her unmarred face. “The bark sounded worse than the actual bite, my boy.” Grissom said kindly.

“How will I ever learn all of this?” Greg’s voice was small. It made Grissom smile when Nick turned and nuzzled his face against the younger man’s neck.

“You call me or others that I have recommended that you can trust,” Grissom replied. “Above all, trust your instincts and you trust your boy.” He stood and held his hand out to Greg. He pulled the younger man into an embrace. “I won’t leave you out in the cold, sweet boy. If there is anything that you ever need, any training that I can help you with, call me. Don’t be a stranger.” He chuckled. “In fact, if my two have anything to do with it, we will be visiting often.”

He let go and stood back. It was time for Greg to stand on his own two feet. He needed to fulfill his potential and become the true master he was within.

*~*

“Nicky,” Greg leaned back against the soft leather as the car pulled out of the drive. His arm curled around his boy clad in his red slave wear.

“Master?” The dark head lifted and met his gaze curiously. It made him grin. They had come so far.

“I don’t know about you, but I feel restless. I know part of what I am going to have to face when I get home and I’m not yet ready. How about we take a quick side trip?”

“If it pleases, my master,” Nick replied, a small smile quirking his own lips.

Greg chuckled and lifted the phone. “Take us to Delight. I want to meet this Warrick Brown.”

*~*

A life of a slave was one big roller coaster ride, Nick decided. Unknown dips, curves, and dangers were the norm. At least, they had been up until he was purchased by Greg Sanders. There were still a lot of unknowns but the dangers were slowly falling by the wayside. Oh he knew he still had to be alert, for the both of them, but Greg was wearing him down under soft touches and tender smiles. The part of him that yearned for the connection after the harshness of his existence gave up without a fight.

His master cuddled him close as they came upon a richly appointed oak door. He watched his master press the button.

“Password.”

Greg looked surprised. “I don’t have the password.”

“Referral.”

“Dr. Gilbert Grissom?” Greg posed it as a question. “Maybe I should have looked into that packet, my own.” 

He couldn’t help it. His clueless master made him smile. Greg squeezed his hip and chuckled.

The door clicked. “Welcome.”

Nick was intent on staying the proper distance behind his master that he hadn't noticed that Greg stopped. Until Nick crashed into his back and went to his knees in apology. His master’s hand went to the top of his head.

“What is this place?” The awe in his master’s voice had him looking up. He was stunned as well.

He could attribute that to the inherent evilness that was Master Grissom.

Smoky incense, fluttering candles, rich fabrics, and smooth surfaces did not take away from the fact they were standing in a toy and fetish shop. His cheeks burned. He turned and pressed his face against his master’s thigh.

“Welcome to Delight,” He peered up through his lashes as his master’s fingers tightened in his hair.

He was beautiful, dressed in loose cream pants and open red silk shirt. His skin had a satiny shine, reminding him of smooth, glossy milk chocolate. The eyes were a startling green. Full lips parted to reveal bright white teeth.

“I’m Warrick Brown.”

*~*

Lust punched Greg in his gut. He actually had to bite his tongue not to whimper. And if that did not top it all off, he had to relax his fingers in Nick’s hair.

The man, Warrick Brown, was the epitome of sex, his chosen profession aside. Greg narrowed his eyes, Grissom needed to die.

The sexy man tipped his head back and laughed, “Let me guess, Griss didn’t tell you what type of business was operated at Delight?”

Greg blushed and shook his head. Warrick stepped closer took him by the arm. He flinched. The dark skin smelled of rich spice and musk as it brushed against him, “Don’t worry,” White teeth flashed again, “I won’t bite.” He started to relax but the brush of lips against his ear was electric, “Only if you ask.”

A thump to his thigh had him clearing his throat and backing away from heat that emanated from Warrick. He reached down and lifted Nick to his feet, placing an arm around the slave’s hips, and brushed a kiss of apology near the leather collar. Nick seemed to take the reassurance and relaxed against him.

They really did need each other, he thought inanely, glancing over to the bowed dark head. His slave once again kept him from making a royal ass of himself. He cleared his throat and turned back to the powerful presence of Warrick Brown.

“He recommended that I take a look around,” He croaked and heated up once again. “I don’t think Nicky and I are ready for this kind of scene.”

As he watched, the dark skinned man seemed to ratchet back the lust and his green eyes softened. “Ah, now I see why Gil wanted you to come here.” He snapped his fingers.

A graceful, dark haired young man appeared. He wore soft low riding trousers of green, a supple harness wound about his chest, and a bright flashing collar of gold and emeralds. He did not kneel but went into Warrick’s arms instead. Greg could see the fine spider webbing of old scars, whitened and smoothed by age. When he lifted his head to accept the kiss of his master, his almond eyes and Asian decent were more evident.

“This is my pet, my own,” Warrick said huskily, “Archie; Grissom has sent us new friends.”

The dark eyes rose shyly as the young man replied, “Hello.”

Greg gave the boy a gentle smile and turned his attention back to Warrick, “I don’t understand, do you and Grissom have some kind of operating procedure for new slave owners.”

Warrick chuckled, “Slave owners? Hell no, they frequent my shop and take their sick debauchery home. No, Gil and I have an understanding when it comes to new masters. That's why he gave you the address for the back rather than the regular store front.” Greg shivered at the silky dark tone. Again the soft green eyes seemed to look him over, “How long have you had your boy?”

His hand tightened automatically, Nick moved closer, “Just a few days.”

The curve of the lush lips was just as soft as his eyes, “Did you acquire him at an auction block?”

Greg lifted Nick’s chin and lost himself in the wary dark gaze, “Slave pens, he was going to be sold to a brothel.”

A quiet whimper and a muttered ‘damn’ had him shifting back to Warrick. The broad arms were cuddling Archie close, a soothing hand running up and down his back. The knowing gaze brought it home, “The same?” He questioned hesitantly.

“No,” Warrick replied gruffly, “I was able to get Archie out of a brothel.”

That was unheard of, “How?”

Warrick seemed to tense, “When he captured my eye, he was still very young. He was born into slavery. He only knew life at a brothel. I started frequenting the hell hole just to be close to him.” His hand went into the silky black hair, “I was able to get the place shut down based on insider information and health violations. My only request was that ownership of Archie be turned over to me.”

Sex and lust bled away. Greg could see the mirror of his own obsession for Nick in Warrick’s green gaze. Yes, Grissom knew him well. He had found another confidant, not a slaver owner, but a master like himself.

“So why did Grissom point me in your direction?” He asked hesitantly, Nick trembled in his arms from the telling of Archie’s story.

The cloud seemed to pass and Warrick’s good humor returned. “Is that all Nicky has to wear?” He gestured at the red shirt and pants with his chin. “Don’t answer that. Gil has sent you my way to get Nick outfitted in a better fashion. To show him off as your property with pride, not the lowest expectation.”

That smarted, he frowned, “I thought it was the proper attire.”

“According to regulation, it is,” Warrick replied easily," but it also leaves him open to free person abuse. Those clothes and a plain collar are a neon signs that says, ‘slave, fuck with me’.” He rubbed his chin, “And he needs a better collar.”

He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, “I’m still over my head, aren’t I, my own.”

“I as well, master,” Nick replied softly. “I have never known of slaves wearing anything other than this or being naked.”

Warrick coughed at that. Nick flinched and Greg could feel his automatic decent to kneel. He stopped the motion and drew Nick’s eyes back to his. “Mine,” he whispered, dipping his head and waiting.

“Yours, master,” Nick responded and opened his mouth to Greg’s kiss. He pressed their foreheads together when he pulled back. Nick seemed much more at ease.

“Your boy is correct. Most slave owners take the lowest initiative with their property. Unless I missed it or Grissom is really wrong about you, I wouldn’t think you would want that for your boy.”

Greg trailed his thumb over the sharp cheekbone and down to the square jaw. “No, I don’t. What are you going to show me?”

Again Warrick’s infectious chuckle filled the room, “Right this way good sir,” He bowed towards an arched entryway with warm, soothing light.

The room made him much more comfortable. There were several mannequins dressed in different modes of clothing from robes, to shorts, to tight lace up shirts. Each look was offset with a glittering collar or an intricate harness. Along one wall were various sandals and simple boots.

He was very glad that he was generally frugal in his personal life because he was about to spoil Nicky. Spoil him rotten, he smirked.

Warrick allowed him to make choices while the quiet Archie took measurements of Nick’s thin battered body. The young man’s hands were sure even when Nick tensed and flinched. Quiet words between them seemed to ease Nick’s nerves and under his watchful eye, Nick went through the process much more calmly. He seemed very relieved to be back in his slave ware and kneeling at Greg’s feet.

“I suggest you buy your slave a general wardrobe to begin with. He has lost a lot of weight and with it muscle mass. Archie was the same. I will forward you a food and exercise regimen that will get his weight and musculature back to normal. It will be at slow and healthy pace.” Warrick placed a stack of clothing beside him. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Greg lifted a questioning brow. “It will make your boy much more comfortable.”

Alone, Nick leaned his head against his thigh. “You should have told me sooner, my own.” He admonished gently. “I’m still learning.”

“Me too, master,” Nick responded looking up to meet his gaze. “Habits are hard to break. I go into this zone where I think everyone will hurt me.”

Greg pulled him up and onto his lap. “You didn’t panic, you just seemed very tense.”

Nick burrowed against him, laying his head against his shoulder. His warm breath against his sensitive neck made Greg hard, very hard. “It was because of you, master.” Nick said quietly, his hip brushing against Greg’s groin. “Every time I felt scared, I would look to you and feel safe once again.”

He brushed a kiss against Nick’s soft hair, “Let’s get this done. I still want to look at collars and then we are for home.” A smile curved Nick’s thin lips. “What is it, my own?” He was curious.

“Home,” Nick replied, “I like the sound of that.” A blush stained his cheeks but Greg was over the moon. Nick had admitted that he liked something without being prompted or cajoled. Forget killing Grissom, he was going to kiss the man on his next opportunity.

Nick stuttered his protest at all of Greg’s selections. He hushed him with a swift kiss to his lips. His boy had several articles of clothing in the Sanders red as well as various pairs of shoes to be delivered. Nick’s body might change but his feet should stay relatively the same. He didn’t choose revealing clothes or harnesses, but he was happy with his choices. 

Warrick had explained that as long as the clothes held the owner’ signifying colors and stayed away from what was considered free man ware, such as jeans, slacks, and jackets, the sky was the limit. When he inquired about Catherine’s pink attire, Warrick’s eyes had heated with lust and simply replied, “Grissom.” Upon further explanation, the authorities had no control over what an owner dressed their slaves in at home, only in public venues or private homes hosting public parties. He filed the information away for further discussion with Rand.

The whole convoluted slave system was making more sense to him, reconciling the information from Grissom and Warrick to what he had observed. He was still going to work from home until Nick was ready to join him at his office. His father, just the thought made his head throb, could go fuck himself. He knew that battle was waiting for him when he returned to his home.

“Master?” Nick’s gaze had darkened worry. “Is everything all right?” He had 

He shook away dark thoughts and replied, “Not looking forward to talking to my father, my own, it’s nothing to worry about.”

Nick didn’t seem very convinced as he signaled for Warrick. The next step was to choose a collar to replace the temporary leather one around Nick’s neck. His boy gave a quiet choke of protest at the wide chain of platinum adorned with small rubies. The tag on the collar as well as Nick’s chip would signify Greg’s ownership. He rode the wave of possessiveness daring anyone to mess with what was his.

Warrick pulled him aside as he settled his bill and delivery directions. The warm palm on his cheek surprised him.

“You are still in for some rough times, my friend, no matter what progress he’s made in such a short time.” Warrick was serious but Greg would have to agree. His trust in Grissom and Warrick’s knowledge and kindness had catapulted the dark skinned man from acquaintance to friend in a few short hours. “You haven’t bedded him yet, have you?”

Greg flushed as he gazed at Nick. His boy smiled at him before continuing to talk to Archie, the shy expression so very endearing.

“No,” He admitted, “We have been intimate but there has been no penetration.” His face blazed hotly. He never thought he would be having this type of conversation with near strangers. But Warrick’s seriousness didn’t fade under the understanding expression.

“Pushing too fast too soon will lose the ground that you’ve gained,” Warrick said quietly. “Just know if the urge becomes too much, call me or come see me and I will help you with relief.” Greg recoiled at that but Warrick’s hand tightened around his and the open lust returned. “You may not know me, but you can trust me, pretty boy. Grissom wouldn’t have sent you to me if you couldn’t. I know what it is like to want to possess their bodies, to heal the brokenness with touch. I can help, all you have to do is ask.”

Even if his first instinct was to deny, Greg admitted that there was wisdom in the man’s words. He detached himself gently but replied, “I’ll think about it.”

When he stepped outside with Nick to wait for his car, Greg filled his lungs with fresh air. Still so much to think about, he thought restlessly. He squeezed Nick’s hand and was glad that he got a squeeze in return. Grissom and Warrick had good intentions but it paled in the reassurance of Nick’s hand in his own.

*~*

Warrick closed the door behind Greg and Nick. A bemused smile touched his lips. Those two were going to be fine, he thought.

“You did not tell them everything, master.” Archie’s voice broke into his thoughts.

He walked back to his boy and lifted him onto the counter. Warrick’s long fingers traced over the collar around Archie’s neck. 

“You did not tell them about all the services you provide.” Archie’s tone was almost reproachful.

Warrick pushed his boy’s thighs open and stood between them. Archie’s eyes dropped to half mast. “We shall partake of the delights soon, my pet.” He cupped the boy’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss.

A cough made him freeze. Only his select clientele had pass keys to the front door. In a fluid move, he turned quickly and had Archie shielded by his body. The woman standing before him did not make him relax.

“Ms. Sidle.”

“Mr. Brown,” she advanced towards him. He gave her grin full of teeth and malice. She just rolled her own eyes in return and presented him with a folder.

He just looked at it.

“This is an order to turn over your client records.” Sara ordered briskly.

Warrick made no move to touch it. “Under whose jurisdiction, this is a private club and retail shop.”

“The slave owners’ guild is becoming more localized and with it more government authority of the Department of Enslavement under the purview of the business consortium. Information from establishments such as this will be a sub directory of the Slave Owners Information System.” She pushed the folder at him. “The government wants to make sure slaves,” Her voice dripped venomous sarcasm as her dark eyes raked over Archie’s face, “are protected.”

The dark skinned man crossed his arms, “I know you, Sara.” He said, returning her sarcasm for disdain, “You will be in my records as well.”

She couldn’t hide the small telltale flinch.

“That’s what I thought,” Warrick stated. He moved Archie to curve against his body and enjoyed the reaction it received. Her body stiffened and she glared at the both of them. “This witch hunt is personal. You never did let it go, did you?” His hand tightened on Archie’s hip protectively. “This is about Gil.”

Sara snapped the folder onto the counter and turned on her heel. When she opened the door, she snarled, “Grissom won’t be able to protect you.” She slammed the door.

Archie whimpered. He pressed a reassuring kiss against his slave’s forehead and reached for his phone.

“Phelps, I need to talk to Grissom.” The conversation was brief but to the point. The Department of Enslavement and  SOIS would have to go through Grissom; his business was under Grissom’s corporate umbrella. He ended the call and breathed a deep sigh of relief. It was a war between Grissom and Sidle. He wanted no part of it. That nasty piece of trash on the counter would be sent Grissom's legal department.

He had better things to do. He lifted his boy into his arms and felt the lean legs wrap around his waist. “I think we are going to use the sling.”

Archie moaned and burrowed into him as he carried him deeper into his establishment.

*~*

The elder Sanders did not even grace him with a week before thundering and harping at Greg, using both the lab staff and even Rand. Greg slammed the phone down and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. The call went about as well to be expected.

“Master?” Nick’s dark eyes were questioning.

He pulled his boy up and onto his lap. He pressed his face against Nick’s chest and inhaled deeply. He sighed when Nick’s fingers tentatively carded through his hair. 

“Master,” Nick sounded worried. Greg just shook his head. His hands went up and down his boy’s back, needing the touch to dispel the unpleasantness. 

“No need to worry, my own,” He said with a sigh and pushed away. “I just can’t hold my father off any longer. He is coming here this evening.”

Nick seemed to slump a little. “Will I need to stay in your room?”

That startled Greg, “Why would I want that?”

Nick looked down and avoided his gaze, “Master Grissom says that your father will see me as a sign of weakness and will use me to hurt you, master. I don’t want that.” He shifted beneath Greg’s hands, “It would be better if I were out of sight.”

“No,” Greg growled and then winced. “No, my own, you are mine.” His arm curved around Nick’s hips and pulled him closer. He could feel his own cock respond to the heat of Nick’s body. He loosened his grip and went to withdraw. Nick kept the contact with a light flush on his face. “I’m sorry, my own.” Greg sighed. “You are a part of my life, all of it. I am not worried about my father, he just makes life unpleasant.”

Greg gripped Nick’s hips and stared into the wide dark eyes. “He makes my life unpleasant, but not yours. No one will touch you or hurt you ever again. They will have to go through me.”

Nick seemed to consider his words and lowered his head until their foreheads touched, “Yes, master.”

It was so soothing to have companionship, Greg thought. To be touched and have the right to touch, Greg could not keep his hands off of Nick. He was so glad that his boy had relaxed enough to accept his touch. The naïve part of him wished that it wasn’t within the bonds of slavery. He wished that he and Nick were on equal footing. But that was like touching the stars. He knew Nick was the one for him and could protect him from the horrors that he had endured. He would give Nick a life that he could grow and heal within.

He pushed away heavy thoughts. That was for another time. They had to get ready for his father’s arrival. It made his guts twist with apprehension.

Leaving the details of dinner in Rand’s capable hands, he led Nick up to his room. Their room now, he thought possessively with his hand on Nick’s lower back. His fingers itched to cup the swell of his boy’s ass but not now. They were still moving things along slowly.

Everything felt different, he mused. They were gaining a rhythm as they bathed together. Greg longed for the day when he could turn Nick’s slick, wet body and mount him from behind. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of erotic images of having Nick in his bed.

Nick knelt patiently as he laid out clothes for the evening. He kept his groin away from Nick. It was his plan to go back into the bathroom and take care of it when a warm hand brushed against his hip.

Without thinking he turned, which brought Nick face to face with Greg’s very hard and leaking cock.

“Shit,” Greg scrabbled for the discarded towel to cover himself but Nick did not let go of his hip.

“Master.”

There as a hint of exasperation in Nick’s voice. Greg’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, my own, I want you but damn it, I’m not going to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

“Use me, master,” Nick whispered, wetting his bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue.

“Nicky,” Greg tried to be reasonable but how could he deny the hope and trepidation in the dark eyes. How could a slave so traumatized want what his boy was asking? One hand job and his boy was using a term of submission.  _Use me_  had heat curling in Greg’s gut and his cock twitching painfully.

He sat down on the edge of his bed heavily and reached for the lube. “Come here, my own.” He moaned as Nick settled between his thighs. Taking his slave’s hand, he coated the long narrow fingers liberally.

“Touch me,” He ordered hoarsely.

Greg’s eyes narrowed. He could see the shaking hand approach his cock. It was different under the bright lights of their bedroom instead of in the dark at Grissom’s. He was about to call the whole thing off, he didn’t want them moving backwards.

Wet fingers curled around his flesh. “Nicky,” he breathed.

In that moment, he found out just how far behind he was when it came to his slave. Nick’s fingers were sure and maddening. Gentle caresses, strong strokes, a second hand joining in by cupping and rolling his balls. It had been reiterated over and over that Nick had been trained in the early days of his slavery and had received brutal training from the slave traders, but to feel that surety was startling. He looked down and hissed. Nick’s dark head was almost touching his abdomen, his determination evident in the tension of the wide shoulders.

It would be so easy to grasp the back of Nick’s nape and encourage his head downward. To feel that lush mouth and thin lips gripped around his cock. Greg gave a shout, his hips tried to fly off the bed, and his seed boiled from his gut.

He sat back, resting his weight on his arms staring at his slave with bewildered wonder. Nick was kneeling, his back straight, and his butt on his heels. He was staring at his cum covered hand.

“Nicky,” Greg panted and reached for his towel.

He froze. Nick lifted his hand and stared into Greg’s eyes. His pink tongue cleaned away the traces of seed in wide swipes. If he hadn’t already come, Greg knew he would be hard.

“Nicky,” He could hear the question in his tone and his boy gave him a shy smile.

“Yours, master.”

*~*

Greg sat in his living room, trying not to stare at his boy. Nick was standing at his side in the clothes that they had bought from Delight.

Loose black pants hung from Nick’s protruding hip bones and a silky red shirt was draped over the wide shoulders. Greg knew he should be ashamed but he could not help but admire the lacing that held the pants together or the fact that shirt did not have any buttons. Nick was thin and the bruises had faded, but Greg liked being able to see more of his slave’s body than the required red slave wear had allowed.

He reached out to draw Nick down and onto his lap when Rand cleared his throat. Grasping Nick’s hand, Greg waited. The nerves and trepidation made his stomach cramp.

“Sir, your father."

Nick kept his head bowed; he focused on his master's long fingers entwined with his own. They fit together, like puzzle pieces, warm and comfortable. Greg's lips pressed against his forehead.

"My father's growl is worse than his bite, my own, pay him no mind." The arm about his hips tightened, "You are mine."

For once, Nick was glad that he was a slave. It probably would have been better to be kneeling at his master's feet when the elder Sanders made an appearance. Greg was not letting go, and in his master's arms, Nick relaxed.

He was concerned. Greg came across as gangly and shy, awkward and sweet, but when Nick felt the lean muscles that surround him tighten into bow strings, he hazarded a look at Greg's profile. It was disconcerting to see the cold countenance and hard eyes. The soft chocolate dark eyes were like marbles. Greg's body tightened even further when Nick heard the rustle of fabric.

"Gregory," the voice was as cold and hard as his master's eyes. Nick shivered.

"Father, to what do I owe this inconvenient visit?" Greg's voice was harsh.

The older man chuckled and Nick chanced a look out of the corner of his eye. His master's sire had given Greg his build, lean and lanky, and his curly dark sun warmed hair. The face was hawkish and predatory; Nick could not see Greg in his father's features.

"I do not have to have a reason, son," George Sanders remarked, taking a seat across from his son. "I do however have some concerns, that if not addressed will be presented at the next meeting of the executive board."

Greg sneered, "Oh really, please, father, explain that to me."

"Acquiring a slave has been a distraction to you, son," the elder Sanders replied, voice sticky sweet with fake concern. Nick knew that voice, voices like that reveled in the pain that was wrought at another's expense. "You are no longer actively pursuing a legal heir, you have neglected your advisory capacity in your lab, and some would think a vote of no confidence is in order."

Nick bit his lip and curled into his master. A vote of no confidence, if passed, would be entered into the records of the corporate consortium for review. It would make Greg's leadership circumspect. It would be up to Greg to prove his mettle, guilty until proven innocent.

Greg sighed as if he were bored, "This would be a third attempt, father, and the board would not take you seriously. Your motives, however, would be under scrutiny with the mandatory retirement looming; your holdings would be mine legally. Some would see this as a desperate attempt to cling to power." Greg lifted his hand to study his nails before he brushed over Nick's hair, "Were you not the one that taught me from a very young age that appearances were everything?"

Nick shivered involuntarily. The coldness and authority in his master's voice pulled Nick apart. He never wanted that coldness directed at him but he wanted to whimper at the aloof dominance, dark and liquid sliding through his veins.

Greg continued on, even as his father snorted. "Besides, you are not the only one for documentation of events." The room felt heavy with innuendo. Nick turned into the comfort of Greg's neck. "Would the board be interested in your active dissuading of suitors? Would they be interested in adoption papers being put under review, surrogacy circumspect? My sexual history being bandied about in corporate offices? You? You are supposed to be above that as the head of a business empire. Wouldn't our investors be concerned at the back room politics to supersede your blooded legal heir, with a bastard child that is not ready to take the helm? The rarity of an illegitimate child becoming the sole receiver of inheritance is unprecedented, so much so that you make a fool of yourself."

"You have always been a disgrace." Greg's father snarled as he stood stiff and unrelenting, looming over Greg. Nick felt the twitch of Greg's jaw and rubbed his lips against the skin of his master's neck. He tried to give some comfort to his angry master. "I blame your mother's blood."

"How is mother?" Greg asked easily. "You censor my use of a slave, when one shares her bed, and yours too? Or have you cast aside the mother of your bastard son?"

There was no answer. Just the slamming of a door that made Greg go limp as he panted.

"Master?" Nick knew their bond was strong enough now to allow him to question. Grissom had taught them that communication hinged on survival. He pressed into Greg, even as his master's arms tightened almost painfully.

"Well done, sir." Rand said as he entered the room. "Well done." The manservant had a tray with whiskey and glasses. There were three glasses.

Greg did not let him kneel at his feet. He kept an arm clamped about Nick's hips. When Nick protested mildly by turning his head at the proffered whiskey, Greg's expression softened marginally.

"You look like you need it as much as I do."

It felt like fire that burned from his stomach to his belly. It warmed him both physically and mentally. He had forgotten what whiskey had tasted like. It brought back memories of standing with his father, the firm clap to the back for a job well done. What a juxtaposition of his own sire with that of his master. How had his master turned out to be such a gentle soul in the face of an asshole of a father? Nick blanched at thinking poor thoughts of free men.

"My own?" Greg lifted his chin. Gone was the cold hard eyes, his master's eyes were soft and serious. Nick ducked his head once more.

"I'm sorry, master."

He pressed into the thumb trailing over his cheek, "Whatever for? I told you that my father is not to concern you. You are safe."

"I just..." Nick trailed off and squirmed. "I'm not supposed to think ill of the free born."

Greg's lips parted and then he tipped his head back in quiet laughter. Nick felt a blush on his face, his stomach curdled at the thought of his master laughing at him. Greg just pulled him against his chest, his lips on Nick's neck.

"Slavery does not mean you no longer have a brain. And I have a good idea of what you were thinking in terms of my father. I happen to agree with you."

Nick went white; all of his training was failing him. The stoic face that he presented the world was his only defense. Greg hugged him close and it eased his tension somewhat.

"Not on your face, my own," Greg muttered, his lips in Nick's hair, "Your eyes, your eyes tell me everything that I need to know."

Nick wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Greg eased him from his lap. His master looked worn around the edges. His brow furrowed when he looked up into Nick’s eyes.

“Are you in need of anything, hungry, my own?”

Nick shook his head, “No master.”

Greg pushed himself up and held Nick against his side. It made Nick proud to feel Greg leaning into him. “Then let’s go to bed and put an end to this day.”

Instead of spooning behind his master, Greg twisted towards him. His lean legs tangled against Nick's, his arm across his hips, and long fingers splayed against Nick’s back. Greg drifted off first, leaving Nick awake and observing. His own hand inched tentatively to the small of Greg’s back. His master sighed in contentment. Instead of holding or being held, Nick realized that they were holding each other.

*~*

Days passed.  Nick could feel the rhythm building between him and his master.  He did not flinch as much, his heart did not leap into his throat when finding himself alone with Rand. The manservant, a free man, was very loyal to his master.  Rand, like Master Grissom's Phelps, were servants but not slaves.  He wondered how that job position fit into the complicated corporation laws.  

The days had a tacit schedule.  It would start with a quiet breakfast and then a swim in the pool.  When Nick looked in the mirror after showering with his master, he could see slow changes.  The marks from his beatings fading, leaving behind scars that would also fade over time.  He was still on the skinny side, but with regular meals and exercise, he was putting on weight and just a hint of muscle definition in his arms, his chest, his abs, his legs.

His master spent most of his time in his home office, scribbling notes, typing on his computer, or talking into the ear bud with one of his lab workers.  At first, Nick was on his guard making sure to attend to his master, then it was interesting listening to the science concepts he remembered from his own investigative days.  As time went on, it was a mind numbing lull.

Between Nick and Rand, they made sure that his master ate at lunch time which would prompt Greg to remember to feed Nick as well with a sheepish look. Nick had permission take care of his own needs as they arose and the trips to the bathroom broke the monotony.  He wore loose pants and curled on a comfortable pillow at Greg's feet.  His master seemed to enjoy having Nick near enough to touch or run his fingertips through Nick's hair.  Greg would work long into the night, muttering and scolding himself to remember to be a better master to Nick.  The absentmindedness was endearing.  He had been able to stay somewhat alert in the beginning.

The day he nodded off was the day things changed.

*~*

"Nicky," Greg's voice was as soft as the hand threading through his hair.  Nick did not startle quite as much as he did in the beginning.  Greg's voice was both comfort and a steadiness for him now. 

He just pressed his head and blinked sleepily.  Nick was not sure when the monotony had gotten to him to the point he fell asleep at his master's feet.  Dull panic had his mind racing immediately, all of his chores with Rand had been completed, he was absolutely positive.  He had joined his master in the home office in hopes that he could help in some way, but Greg had been on a conference call interviewing a possible director for one of his labs, D something or other and he must of nodded off during the discussion.

"Yes master," He looked into Greg's dark eyes and said with honesty, not fear, "I am sorry, master.  Is there something that you need?"

Greg's lips turned up in a tired smile, "Besides you? Nothing."  Kicking off his shoes, he sat on Nick's pillow and curled Nick into his arms, pressing his lips against Nick's neck.  Nick could except heavy petting and Greg's touch easily.  His master still accepted his hand or Nick's hip to find release but pushed no further.  Nick had felt his own sexual frustration and was not sure how to approach Greg on the matter, though their communication improved daily.

"Tell me this," his master asked almost absentmindedly, "You worked in investigations as free man?"

Nick frowned, they rarely talked about the time when he had been a free man.  They were dangerous thoughts.  "Yes, master."

Greg massaged his forehead, frowning slightly, "I need to get back to my main lab.  I have just hired a new lab director to cover the smaller two labs, a D. B. Russell.  We seem to share the same passion for employees that most do not."

"I could stay here, master," Nick replied, his own mind turning at endless days and evenings without the company of his master, unable to serve him.

Greg just smiled, "That's not what I want at all.  I want you with me.  I think I could skirt some of the enslavement laws, having you with me at all times."  Greg sighed and uncurled his long limbs, propping on his elbows.  "I'll have Grissom over at his convenience to make sure I'm not doing anything too stupid.  I will ask him to bring Catherine and Billy as well."  He pushed himself up until he was standing.  Nick accepted his hand to be pulled up as well.  "For now, I have the smaller labs covered.  My legal team is handling my father who has been banned from my estate with the blessing of the corporate board."  He nuzzled Nick's neck again and Nick turning his head minutely had his master's mouth against his own, opening up easier and easier to Greg's kisses.

His master's hands curled about his hips, thumbs tracing the soft skin between bone and muscle.  "I have had standing invite to visit Delight once more.  Rand will make the reservations. We have been cooped up for too long at my own fault.  I want to go out with my boy," The thumbs tightened when Nick bit his bottom lip, "to a place that I know we will be safe."  Greg kissed him again, deeper and Nick's hands went to the slender biceps and slid up to toy with the soft hair at Greg's nape.

"I won't deny, leaving your home is nerve wracking," Nick said hesitantly, "but it could be interesting like the time at Master Grissom's home."

"It could be fun, too," Greg grinned already pulling Nick out of his office towards the stairs that led to the master's suite.

Or a terrifying disaster, Nick responded silently.

*~*


End file.
